“Half-an-hour’s work with a pick, or a Mill’s hand-grenade, and a bit of wind, and the thing would come down like an old factory chimney. Take that gable end of the house with it too, probably,—and put our dear friend back for weeks.”
Manon’s eyes met his.
“It would be a blow to Bibi?”
“Well—that brick stack is going to be very useful when they begin reconstructing the house. And if it fell it would be pretty sure to bring that wall down.”
“But we could not do it, Paul.”
Her face had a touch of fierceness.
“It would be such a dirty trick, the sort of trick that Bibi would play on other people.”
“I thought you would say that,” he told her, with a significant little smile.
“Then you wanted to find out——?”
“Yes.”