'Will you open the door and take this child in?'
'I mustn't open the door. This Miss Wooster that I knew married a man
named Spenser. Was she any relation?'
'She is my Aunt Agatha,' I replied, and I spoke with a good deal of
bitterness, trying to suggest by my manner that he was exactly the sort
of man, in my opinion, who would know my Aunt Agatha.
He beamed down at me.
'This is most fortunate. We were wondering what to do with Tootles.
You see, we have mumps here. My daughter Bootles has just developed
mumps. Tootles must not be exposed to the risk of infection. We could
not think what to do with him. It was most fortunate, your finding the
dear child. He strayed from his nurse. I would hesitate to trust him to
a stranger, but you are different. Any nephew of Mrs Spenser's has my
complete confidence. You must take Tootles into your house. It will be
an ideal arrangement. I have written to my brother in London to come
and fetch him. He may be here in a few days.'
'May!'
'He is a busy man, of course; but he should certainly be here within
a week. Till then Tootles can stop with you. It is an excellent plan.
Very much obliged to you. Your wife will like Tootles.'
'I haven't got a wife!' I yelled; but the window had closed with a
bang, as if the man with the whiskers had found a germ trying to escape
and had headed it off just in time.