She gently shook her head:
“You haven’t any sense, Garry. That man might easily have killed you, in spite of your coolness and courage——”
“No. He was just a rat——”
“In a corner! You couldn’t tell what he’d do——”
“Yes, I could. He didn’t shoot. Moreover, he 219 legged it, which was exactly what I was certain he meant to do. Don’t worry about me, Thessa; if I didn’t have brains enough to catch him, at least I was clever enough to know it was safe to try.” He laughed. “There’s nothing of the hero about me; don’t think it!”
“I think that Dulcie and I know what to call your behaviour,” she said quietly, taking the silent girl’s hand in hers and resting it in her lap.
“Sure; it was bull-headed pluck,” growled Westmore. “The drop is the drop, Garry, and you’re no mind-reader.”
But Barres persisted in taking it humorously:
“I read that gentleman’s mind correctly, and his character, too.” Then, to Thessalie: “You say you don’t recognise him from my description?”
She shook her head thoughtfully.