Flora and Jane came in from the garden.
"We've seen him down the road," they announced.
"Good. Now, look here, everyone, I've wasted a deuce of a lot of time when I ought to have been on the way. Here's the position of affairs. Flora, you're going to drive me to London."
"Right," said Flora with sparkling eyes.
"Jane! Still got that old service revolver I gave you?"
"Um."
"Keep it handy. Likely enough there'll be a couple of visitors here before long and you've got to detain 'em somehow."
"I'll keep 'em till they grow roots," said Jane stoutly.
"It's a damn shame, dragging you into all this, but that bullet did me in as a driver. It's no joke shoving a motor bike along with a bullet through your hand."
"But how did you get the wound, dear?"