“You know what I mean!”
“I certainly do not! You were perfectly willing to sell the piece.”
“I’m not talking about that! You know what I mean! I’ve been robbed!”
Wally snatched at his arm as it gyrated past him in a gesture of anguish which rivalled the late efforts in that direction of Mr Goble, who was now leaning against the safety-curtain trying to get his breath back.
“Don’t be a fool,” said Wally curtly. “Talk sense! You know perfectly well that Miss Mariner wouldn’t swindle you.”
“She may not have been in it,” conceded Mr Pilkington. “I don’t know whether she was or not. But that uncle of her swindled me out of ten thousand dollars! The smooth old crook!”
“Don’t talk like that about Uncle Chris!” said Jill, her eyes flashing. “Tell me what you mean.”
“Yes, come on, Pilkington,” said Wally grimly. “You’ve been scattering some pretty serious charges about. Let’s hear what you base them on. Be coherent for a couple of seconds.”
Mr Goble filled his depleted lungs.
“If you ask me …” he began.