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looked at the written words. "You are clever," she said. "Of course, that's it. It must be."
Vandy's reception of Jonah's discovery convinced me that it had already occurred to him. He applauded theatrically. The fellow was playing a part, feverishly. Besides, I did not believe his rotten book was being rebound. That was a lie. There was something there which he did not want us to see. Not a doubt of it. Well, we had a copy at White Ladies. No! Our copy was in Town. Hang it! What a sweep the man was!
With a horse-laugh he interrupted my reflections.
"Well, well, Miss Feste, I confess you gave me a shock. Still, if you had to meet one of our forefathers, I could have wished it had been any other than the notorious William. We enjoy his portrait, but we deplore his memory. Ha! Ha! Now, we're really proud of the next one--his cousin, James Godstow Pleydell. He it was who was responsible----"
"Forgive me," purred Daphne, "but I'm going to say we must fly. I'd no idea it was so late. People are coming to dinner, and we must go back by Brooch, because we've run out of ice."
Our host protested--not very heartily--and was overruled. Mutual regret was suitably expressed. Without more ado we descended into the hall. Here at the front door the decencies of leave-taking were observed. The host and hostesses were thanked, the parting guests sped. A moment later, we were sliding down the avenue to the lodge-gates. As we swung on to the road--
"Where's the book?" said Daphne. "That man's a liar."
"At Cholmondeley Street," said I. "But you're right about Vandy. He's trying to keep something back."
"He's so excited he doesn't know what to do," said Daphne. "That's clear."
"Well, what the deuce is it?" said Berry. "I've read the blinkin' book, but I'll swear there's nothing in it about buried treasure."
"Whatever it is," said I, "it's in that book. I'll get it to-morrow. D'you really want any ice?"
Daphne shook her head.
"But I couldn'