“I haven’t got it.”
“Who has?”
It appeared that none of them had.
“Well,” said the woman, in despair, “we’re locked out, then. I told you to put the key in your pocket.”
“So I did.”
“Well, where is it, then?”
“You told me I could leave off my jacket—it’s in my jacket pocket.”
The woman stood frowning.
“Could we do anything to help you?” said Harry, vaulting the low fence and standing, hat in hand, before her. Gordon followed and stood beside him.
“I’m afraid not,” said she. “We’re locked out; it’s most exasperating. John, you’ll have to run straight down to Mr. Berry’s and tell him to come right up.”