Lor', it's funny,
ain't it?"
Henson failed to see the humour of the situation. He was uneasy and
suspicious. Moreover, he was puzzled by this American girl, and he hated
to be puzzled. She had social aspirations, of course; she cared nothing
for decayed or reformed criminals, and this silly bazaar was only
designed so that the ambitious girl could find her way into the county
set. Then she would choose a husband, and nothing more would be heard of
Merritt and Co. Henson had a vague notion that all American girls are on
the look-out for English husbands of the titled order.
"Littimer must be mad," he muttered. "I can't understand Littimer; I
can't understand anything. Which reminds me that I have a crow to pluck
with you. Why didn't you do as I told you last night?"
"Did," said Merritt, curtly. "Got the picture and took it home with me."
"You liar! The picture is in the corridor at the present time."
"Liar yourself! I've got the picture on my mantelshelf in my sitting-room
rolled up as you told me to roll it up and tied with a piece of cotton.
It was your own idea as the thing was to be left about casual-like as
being less calculated to excite suspicion.
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