I shall tell him about this!"
The colour of Thyme's face deepened from rose to crimson.
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Well--those new---" She could not bring out that word "clothes." It
would have given her thoughts away.
Hilary seemed making for their seat, but Miranda, aware of Martin,
stopped. "A man of action!" she appeared to say. "The one who pulls
my ears." And turning, as though unconscious, she endeavoured to lead
Hilary away. Her master, however, had already seen his niece. He came
and sat down on the bench beside her.
"We wanted you!" said Martin, eyeing him slowly, as a young dog will eye
another of a different age and breed. "Thyme and I have been to see the
Hughs in Hound Street. Things are blowing up for a mess. You, or whoever
put the girl there, ought to get her away again as quick as possible."
Hilary seemed at once to withdraw into himself.
"Well," he said, "let us hear all about it."
"The woman's jealous of her: that's all the trouble!"
"Oh!" said Hilary; "that's all the trouble?"
Thyme murmured: "I don't see a bit why Uncle Hilary should bother. If
they will be so horrid--I didn't think the poor were like that. I didn't
think they had it in them. I'm sure the girl isn't worth it, or the
woman either!"
"I didn't say they were," growled Martin. "It's a question of what's
healthy.
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