“On my bicycle. I had a puncture. That must have been it. And there was a lot of traffic.”
“Keep it up, sir!” roared Jenkins imperatively. “What’s the matter with that left arm?”
Click went Jimmy’s lower jaw.
“Dear little chap!” muttered Dion, full of sympathetic interest. “He’s doing splendidly.”
“You really think so?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
“You understand boys?”
“Better than I understand women, I expect,” Dion returned, with a sudden thought of Rosamund at home and the wonderful Turkish songs Mrs. Clarke wished to show to her.
Mrs. Clarke said nothing, and just at that moment Jenkins announced:
“That’ll do for to-day, sir.”