Ultimately Wrinkles said, "Well, it's his own business." This was spoken in a tone of duty.
"Of course it's his own business," retorted Grief. "But who would ever think——" Again they grinned.
When Hawker entered the den some minutes later he might have noticed something unusual in the general demeanour. "Say, Grief, will you loan me your—— What's up?" he asked.
For answer they grinned at each other, and then grinned at him.
"You look like a lot of Chessy cats," he told them.
They grinned on.
Apparently feeling unable to deal with these phenomena, he went at last to the door. "Well, this is a fine exhibition," he said, standing with his hand on the knob and regarding them. "Won election bets? Some good old auntie just died? Found something new to pawn? No? Well, I can't stand this. You resemble those fish they discover at deep sea. Good-bye!"
As he opened the door they cried out: "Hold on, Billie! Billie, look here! Say, who is she?"
"What?"
"Who is she?"