He asked the question in all innocence, for Dora had not breathed a word about Jim's performance at the Exhibition.
"I don't like fighting," replied Jim; "I am afraid of my nose bleeding."
Frank gazed at him with suspicion. Then, as Jim's face remained quite grave, Frank's grew scornful. Afraid of his nose bleeding! That was a nice thing for a man of six feet four to say!
To what extent Frank might have continued his interrogations we can only vaguely surmise, but at this point Miss Bird--who had been much irritated by Frank's inquisitive treble tones--dashed into the breach.
"And what, Mr Cleave," she asked, "are the cases in your 'Pillory' this week? Anything of an exceptional nature?"
Mr Cleave came to life with a convulsive start. He had been absorbed in a series of reports supplied by the Abstainer's special commissioner from the London police-courts.
"Pardon?" he asked. "Didn't catch----"
Miss Bird snapped her teeth, which came together much as a man-trap would close on an unfortunate poacher's leg.
"'Pillory!' What's the worst case?" she bawled.
"Oh! The cases in 'Our Pillory'?" bleated Mr Cleave.