"
"Shall we have tea out here or in the study?" Edith asked.
"Anywhere so long as we escape from this," Burton replied, gazing across
the lawn. "What is it?"
A man was making his way from the house towards them, a man who
certainly presented a somewhat singular appearance. He was wearing a
long linen duster, a motor-cap which came over his ears, and a pair of
goggles which he was busy removing. Edith swung herself on to her feet.
Considering her late laments, the dismay in her tone was a little
astonishing.
"It is Mr. Bomford!" she cried.
Burton sighed--with relief.
"I am glad to hear that it is human," he murmured. "I thought that it
was a Wells nightmare or that something from underground had been let
loose."
She shot an indignant glance at him. Her greeting of Mr. Bomford was
almost enough to turn his head. She held out both her hands.
"My dear Mr.--my dear Paul!" she exclaimed. "How glad I am to see you!
Have you motored down?"
"Obviously, my dear, obviously," the newcomer remarked, removing further
portions of his disguise and revealing a middle-aged man of medium
height and unimposing appearance, with slight sandy whiskers and
moustache. "A very hot and dusty ride too.
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