‘I think,’ he said pleasantly, ‘that it would be as well if you, Hilary, were to go and fetch the troops. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. Maggot, dealing him a buffet that sent him reeling several yards backwards. She directed the little old woman and then made her way to van D. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. He lit a cigarette and loitered about. .
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