“You’re Glorious!” said Miss Miniver in tones of rapture, holding a hand in each of hers and peering up into Ann Veronica’s face. "Good night, Master. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. Leave the room! leave the house, Sir! and enter it again at your peril. Have you done the trick at Dollis Hill?—brought off the swag—eh?" "No," answered Jack, flinging himself sullenly into a chair, "I've not. She crept behind the open door and pounced on him when he came out of the bathroom, knocking him onto the floor with a loud thud.
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