"Look here, Gwendoline Arabella, my dear," he cried. "Catch!"
He made a feint of throwing them.
"Haven't you caught 'em?"
"No."
She stared at the man open-mouthed, for behold, his hands were empty.
"Tut, tut!" said he. "Perhaps you can catch a handkerchief." He flicked a red silk handkerchief from his pocket, crumpled it into a ball and threw; but like the gloves it vanished. "Now where has it gone to?"
Susan, who had shrunk beneath Jaffery's protecting shadow, crept forward fascinated. Mr. Fendihook took a sudden step or two towards a flower bed.
"Why, there it is!"
He stretched out a hand and there before our eyes the handkerchief hung limp over the pruned top of a standard rose.
"Jolly good!" exclaimed Jaffery.