"Who's to be asked?" queried Peter, looking round. "Fives into a dinner won't go."
"I should think not," cried Julie gaily. "Jack, here, is taking me, aren't you?" Donovan said "I am" with great emphasis, and made as if he would kiss her, and she pushed him off, laughing, holding her muff to his face. Then she went on: "You're to take Tommy. It is Tommy's own particular desire, and you ought to feel flattered. She says your auras blend, whatever that may be; and as to Mr. Pennell, he's got a girl elsewhere whom he will ask. Three and three make six; what do you think of that?"
"Julie," said Tommy Raynard composedly, "you're the most fearful liar
I've ever met. But I trust Captain Graham knows you well enough by now."
"I do," said Peter, but a trifle grimly, though he tried not to show it—"I do. I must say I'm jolly glad Donovan will be responsible for you. It's going to be 'some' evening, I can see, and what you'll do if you get excited I don't know. Flirt with the proprietor and have his wife down on us, as like as not. In which event it's Donovan who'll have to make the explanations. But come on, what are the details?"
"Tell him, Jack," said Julie. "He's a perfect beast, and I shan't speak to him again."
Peter laughed. "Pas possible," he said. "But come on, Donovan; do as you're told."
"Well, old bird," said Donovan, "first we meet here. Got that? It's safer than any other camp, and we don't want to meet in town. We'll have tea and a chat and then clear off. We'll order dinner in a private room at the Grand, and it'll be a dinner fit for the occasion. They've got some priceless sherry there, and some old white port. Cognac fine champagne for the liqueur, and what date do you think?—1835 as I'm alive. I saw some the other day, and spoke about it. That gave me the idea of the dinner really, and I put it to the old horse that that brandy was worthy of a dinner to introduce it. He tumbled at once. Veuve Cliquot as the main wine. What about it?"
Peter balanced himself on the back of his chair and blew out cigarette-smoke.
"What time are you ordering the ambulances?" he demanded.
"The beds, you mean," cried Julie, entirely forgetting her last words.
"That's what I say. I shall never be able to walk to a taxi even."