“Fluffed in his lines, did he?” said Jimmy, nodding thoughtfully. “It’s
always the way with these amateurs. We must go back at once. Things
look bad, but it may not be too late,” he said as we started. “Even now
a few well-chosen words from a man of the world, and——”
“Great Scot!” I cried. “Look!”
In front of the cottage stood six children, a nurse, and the fellow
from the grocer’s staring. From the windows of the houses opposite
projected about four hundred heads of both sexes, staring. Down the
road came galloping five more children, a dog, three men, and a boy,
about to stare. And on our porch, as unconscious of the spectators as
if they had been alone in the Sahara, stood Freddie and Angela, clasped
in each other’s arms.
Dear old Freddie may have been fluffy in his lines, but, by George, his
business had certainly gone with a bang!