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235 “No, I think she’s out sick with a throat infection. I’m afraid I’m a terribly clumsy fellow. It is positively hateful to think of it. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. You go to your room and ring for your maid. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. ’ ‘Even if they militiamen weren’t there, miss,’ cautioned her cavalier, ‘you couldn’t go marching into the house open like.
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