“I was looking for you, you know, and not for sign-posts.”
“Get along, sir! You’re not half serious enough.”
“That’s good. And me asking for penal servitude and playing the hero.”
He climbed out.
“You had better turn her here, Jones, so that we shall have her nose pointing the right way if we have to get off in a hurry. Hallo, Miss Gaunt, you ought to be out in the Balkans doing the Florence Nightingale! What!”
Lizzie Straker was keeping close to him, with that air of ownership that certain women assume towards men who are faithful to no particular woman.
“Is Miss Carfax with you?”
Lizzie laughed.
“Rather! She’s here all right. We are going to make her do the lighting up to-night.”
“Plenty of inflammable stuff here, Miss Carfax. You can include me if you like.”