ith
Penfentenyou's aid, propped him against the window, that he should see.

He saw, nodded, fell as an umbrella can fall, and kneeling, beat his
forehead on the shut door. Penfentenyou slid the bolt.

The furniture men reinforced the two figures on the path, and advanced,
spreading generously.

"Hadn't we better warn them up-stairs?" I suggested:

"No. I'll die first!" said Jimmy. "I'm pretty near it now. Besides, they
called me names."

I turned from the Artist to the Administrator.

"Coeteris paribus, I think we'd better be going," said Penfentenyou,
dealer in crises.

"Ta--take me with you," said Jimmy. "I've no reputation to lose, but I'd
like to watch 'em from--er--outside the picture."

"There's always a modus viviendi," Penfentenyou murmured, and tiptoed
along the hall to a back door, which he opened quite silently. We passed
into a tangle of gooseberry bushes where, at his statesmanlike example,
we crawled on all fours, and regained the hedge.

Here we lay up, secure in our alibi.

"But your firm,"--the woman was wailing to the furniture removals
men--"your firm promised me everything should be in yesterday. And it's
to-day! You should have been here yesterday!"

"The last tenants ain't out yet, lydy," said one of them.

Lord Lundie was rapidly improving in technique, though organ-grinding,
unlike the Law, is more of a calling than a trade, and he hung
occasionally on a dead centre. Giuseppe, I think, was singing, but I
could not understand the drift of Sir Christopher's remarks. They were
Spanish.

The woman said something we did not catch.

"You might 'ave sub-let it," the man insisted. "Or your gentleman 'ere
might."

"But I didn't. Send for the Police at once."

"I wouldn't do that, lydy. They're only fruit pickers on a beano. They
aren't particular where they sleep."

"D'you mean they've been sleeping there? I only had it cleaned last
week. Get them out."

"Oh, if you say so, we'll 'ave 'em out of it in two twos. Alf, fetch me
the spare swingle-bar."

"Don't! You'll knock the paint off the door. Get them out!"

"What the 'ell else am I trying to do for you, lydy?" the man answered
with pathos; but the woman wheeled on her mate.

"Edward! They're all drunk here, and they're all mad there. Do
something!" she said.

Edward took one short step forward, and sighed "Hullo!" in the direction
of the turbulent house. The woman walked up and down, the very figure
of Domestic Tragedy. Th