“Well, he made a sort of yammering noise,” said Billie, “but that only made him look sillier.” “Deuced good!” chuckled Sir Mallaby. “Funniest thing I ever heard in my life!” gurgled Mr. Bennett, swallowing a digestive capsule. “May have been half-witted,” suggested Mr. Mortimer. Sam leaned across the table with a stern set face. He meant to change the conversation if he had to do it with a crowbar. “I hear you have taken a house in the country, Mr. Mortimer,” he said. “Yes,” said Mr. Mortimer. He turned to Sir Mallaby. “We have at last succeeded in persuading your sister, Mrs. Hignett, to let us rent her house for the summer.” Sir Mallaby gasped. “Windles! You don’t mean to tell me that my sister has let you have Windles!” Mr. Mortimer nodded triumphantly. “Yes. I had completely resigned myself to the prospect of spending the summer in some other house, when yesterday I happened to run into your nephew, young Eustace Hignett, on the street, and he said he was just coming round to see me about that very thing. To cut a long story short, he said that it would be all right and that we could have the house.” Mr. Mortimer took a sip of burgundy. “He’s a curious boy, young Hignett. Very nervous in his manner.” “Chronic dyspepsia,” said Mr. Bennett authoritatively, “I can tell it at a glance.” “Is Windles a very lovely place, Sir Mallaby?” asked Billie. “Charming. Quite charming. Not large, of course, as country houses go. Not a castle, I mean, with hundreds of acres of park land. But nice and compact and comfortable and very picturesque.” “We do not require a large place,” said Mr. Mortimer. “We shall be quite a small party. Bennett and myself, Wilhelmina, Bream....” “Don’t forget,” said Billie, “that you have promised to invite Jane Hubbard down there.” “Ah, yes. Wilhelmina’s friend, Miss Hubbard. She is coming. That will be all, except young Hignett himself.” “Hignett!” cried Mr. Bennett. “Mr. Hignett!” exclaimed Billie. There was an almost imperceptible pause before Mr. Mortimer spoke again, and for an instant the demon of embarrassment hovered, unseen but present, above the dinner table. Mr. Bennett looked sternly at Billie; Billie turned a shade pinker and gazed at the tablecloth; Bream started nervously. Even Mr. Mortimer seemed robbed for a moment of his legal calm. “I forgot to tell you that,” he said. “Yes, one of the stipulations—to which I personally was perfectly willing to agree—was that Eustace Hignett was to remain on the premises during our tenancy. Such a clause in the agreement was, I am quite aware, unusual, and, had the circumstances been other than they were, I would have had a good deal to say about it. But we wanted the place, and we couldn’t get it except by agreeing, so I agreed. I’m sure you will think that I acted rightly, Bennett, considering the peculiar circumstances.” “Well,” said Mr. Bennett reluctantly, “I certainly did want that house....”