"
"You think you can fix it?"
"Eustace will not be there," repeated Mrs. Hignett.
Bream Mortimer hopped down from his chair.
"Well, you've taken a weight off my mind."
"A mind, I should imagine, scarcely constructed to bear great weights."
"I'll be going. Haven't had breakfast yet. Too worried to eat
breakfast. Relieved now. This is where three eggs and a rasher of ham
get cut off in their prime. I feel I can rely on you."
"You can!"
"Then I'll say good-bye."
"Good-bye."
"I mean really good-bye. I'm sailing for England on Saturday on the
_Atlantic_."
"Indeed? My son will be your fellow-traveller."
Bream Mortimer looked somewhat apprehensive.
"You won't tell him that I was the one who spilled the beans?"
"I beg your pardon."
"You won't wise him up that I threw a spanner into the machinery?"
"I do not understand you."
"You won't tell him that I crabbed his act--gave the thing away--gummed
the game?"
"I shall not mention your chivalrous intervention.
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