"Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. ’” “Yes?” “I think—yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ‘The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. If ever I could bring myself to ask you any favour, I would ask you to forget even as I have forgotten. ” “That’s why, in a way, I’m prudish. Spurling, hastening to the rescue.
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