"My
name's on a list, they said--"
"Oh, that list!" Philippa interrupted angrily. "Henry, I really
can't bear it. Couldn't they find you anything on land?"
"My dear girl," he replied a little testily, "what sort of a figure
should I cut in an office! No one can read my writing, and I
couldn't add up a column of figures to save my life. What is it?"
he added, as the door opened, and Mills made his appearance.
"Dumble is here to see you, sir."
"Show him in at once," his master directed with alacrity. "Come
in, Jimmy," he went on, raising his voice. "I've got something
to show you here."
Philippa's lips were drawn a little closer together. She swept past
her husband on her way to the door.
"I hope you will be so good," she said, looking back, "as to spare
me half an hour of your valuable time this evening. This is a
subject which I must discuss with you further at once."
"As urgent as all that, eh?" Sir Henry replied, stopping to light
a cigarette. "Righto! You can have the whole of my evening, dear,
with the greatest of pleasure.--Now then, Jimmy!"
CHAPTER VI
Jimmy Dumble possessed a very red face and an extraordinary capacity
for silence. He stood a yard or two inside the room, twirling his
hat in his hand. Sir Henry, after the closing of the door, did
not for a moment address his visitor.
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