'I believe we shall have to make up a bed on the stones,' she said. 'I am beginning to get cross. Perhaps we can get the concierge dismissed to-morrow. Yes, we'll do that, anyhow.'
'I BELIEVE WE SHALL HAVE TO MAKE UP A BED ON THE STONES,' SHE SAID.
There was a man coming down the street in a rough black frieze cape and a black tie, whose ends floated out in the breeze. If ever I saw a Frenchman he was one, young too. Yet as he went by he said, very clearly and distinctly in English:
'Poosh!'
And Auntie May did push, hard. That was it. The door was open all the time!
I believe the concierge had opened it when we first rang and gone to sleep again. But all I can say is we heard no click, and that is what Auntie May said to Mrs. Jay next morning.
'I didn't think that literary parties could be so exciting!' said Mrs. Jay.