Booms sat very uncomfortably, not knowing what fresh topic to discourse on. But an inspiration seized him presently.
“Oh, I see you’re crying,” he said. “You’re in trouble, too.”
“So I am,” said Jemima.
“Something I’ve done, I suppose?” said Booms.
“No, it isn’t. It’s about—about the Crudens.”
“Oh, of course. What about them?”
“Well, isn’t it bad enough they have this dreadful trouble?” said Jemima; “but it isn’t half the trouble they really are in.”
“You know I can’t understand what you mean when you talk like that,” said Booms.
“Will you promise, if I tell you, to keep it a secret?”
“Oh, of course. I hate secrets, but go on.”