“Yes. I have just parted from her. She was upset, poor girl, of course, exceedingly upset.”
Mr Pilkington moaned hollowly.
“Is she very angry with me?”
For a moment the utter inexplicability of the remark silenced Uncle Chris. Why Jill should be angry with Mr Pilkington for being robbed of ten thousand dollars, he could not understand, for Jill had told him nothing of the scene that had taken place on the previous night. But evidently this point was to Mr Pilkington the nub of the matter, and Uncle Chris, like the strategist he was, rearranged his forces to meet the new development.
“Angry?” he said slowly. “Well, of course …”
He did not know what it was all about, but no doubt if he confined himself to broken sentences which meant nothing light would shortly be vouchsafed to him.
“In the heat of the moment,” confessed Mr Pilkington, “I’m afraid I said things to Miss Mariner which I now regret.”
Uncle Chris began to feel on solid ground again.
“Dear, dear!” he murmured regretfully.
“I spoke hastily.”