“Hell!” shrieked the bird.
“Good Heavens! I never taught him that,” said Gethryn.
Clifford smiled, without committing himself.
“But where were you, Rex?” asked Elliott.
Rex flushed. “Hullo,” cried Clifford, “here’s Reginald blushing. If I didn’t know him better I’d swear there’s a woman in it.” The dark figure at the end of the room rose and walked swiftly over, and Rex saw that it was Braith, as he had supposed.
“I swear I forgot him,” laughed Elliott. “What a queer bird you are, Braith, squatting over there as silent as a stuffed owl!”
“He has been walking his legs off after you,” began Clifford, but Braith cut him short with a brusque—
“Where were you, Rex?”
Gethryn winced. “I’d rather—I think”—he began, slowly—
“Excuse me—it’s not my business,” growled Braith, throwing himself into a seat and beginning to rub Mrs Gummidge the wrong way. “Confound the cat!” he added, examining some red parallel lines which suddenly decorated the back of his hand.