Then the dénouement happened.
Mr. Fairly burst into the house like a whirlwind still slightly inebriated and screaming with rage.
“Where’s the thief? Where is he? He’s stolen my figure. He’s eaten my tea. I shall have to eat my supper for my tea and my breakfast for my supper.... I shall be a meal wrong always.... I shall never get right. And it’s all his fault. Where is he? He’s stolen my charwoman’s clothes. He’s stolen my figure. He’s eaten my tea. Wait till I get him!” He caught sight of Annabel, rushed into the drawing-room, caught her up in his arms and turned round upon the circle of open-mouthed spectators. “I hate you!” he screamed, “and your nasty little calendars and your nasty little boys! Stealing my figure and eating my tea.... I’ll light the fire with your nasty little calendar. I’d like to light the fire with your nasty little boy!”
With a final snort of fury, he turned, still clasping Annabel in his arms and staggered down the front steps. Weakly, stricken and (for the moment) speechless, they watched his departure from the top of the steps. He took to his heels as soon as he was in the road. But he was less fortunate than William. As he turned the corner and vanished from sight, already two policemen were in pursuit. He was screaming defiance at them as he ran. Annabel’s head wobbled over his shoulder and her bonnet dangled by a string.
Then, no longer speechless, they turned on William.
“I told you,” said Robert to them when there was a slight lull in the storm, “You wouldn’t take my advice. If it wasn’t Christmas day I’d hang him myself.”
“But you won’t let me speak!” said William plaintively. “Jus’ listen to me a minute. When I got to his house he said, he said mos’ distinct, he said, ’Please use this——’”
“William,” interrupted Mrs. Brown with dignity. “I don’t know what’s happened and I don’t want to know but I shall tell your father all about it directly we get home.”
******
Uncle Frederick saw them off at the station the next day.