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Flack quite grandly declared. "Well, you introduced us to Mr. Waterlow and he introduced us to to his friends," she explained, colouring, as if it were a fault for the inexactness caused by her magnanimity. "That's why I thought I ought to tell you what you'd like."
And yet a spectator looking from Mr. George Flack to Miss Francie Dosson would have been much at a loss to guess what special relation could exist between them. The girl was exceedingly, extraordinarily pretty, all exempt from traceable likeness to her sister; and there was a brightness in her a still and scattered radiance which was quite distinct from what is called animation.
Dosson repeated while the smoke of his cigar, curling round the question, gave him the air of putting it with placidity. "They think I've insulted THEM they're in an awful state they're almost dead. Mr. Flack has put it into the paper everything, I don't know what and they think it's too wicked. They were all there together all at me at once, weeping and wailing and gnashing their teeth.
Get some of the servants to give you a description of him, and 'phone it through to Flack at the Yard. Let him send it out as an 'all station' message, and get in touch with the railway stations. The chap can't have got far. Detain on suspicion. No arrest. Hello, there's the bell. That's some of our people, I expect. All right, I'll answer. You get on with that."
Inspector Chippenfield hesitated a moment as if in deep thought. The object of his hesitation was to give Flack an opportunity of imparting any information that had come to him while on guard. The inspector believed in encouraging people to impart information but regarded it as subversive of the respect due to him to appear to be in need of any.
Some of them are very base," said George Flack. His companion made no answer; she only turned her eyes to right and left, admiring the splendid day and shining city. The great architectural vista was fair: the tall houses, with their polished shop-fronts, their balconies, their signs with accented letters, seemed to make a glitter of gilt and crystal as they rose in the sunny air.
So they were spread out pretty well at the start, and consequently the danger of interference was minimized. The runners threw off their dressing gowns and took their places. Drake, Flack, Westby, and Mason lined up at scratch,—Westby having drawn the inside place and being flanked by the two Pythians. There was a moment’s pawing of the cinders, and settling down firmly on the spikes.
"I don't know what it's a chance for." "Well, for me to be a little less miserable for a quarter of an hour. It makes me so to see you look so happy." "It makes you miserable?" Francie took it gaily but guardedly. "You ought to understand when I say something so noble." And settling himself on the sofa Mr. Flack continued: "Well, how do you get on without Mr. Probert?"
"Yes, very likely she has," said Francie placidly enough. "I don't like her so well as the others." "You like the others very much?" "Of course I do. So would you if they had made so much of you." "That one at the studio didn't make much of me, certainly," Mr. Flack declared. "Yes, she's the most haughty," Francie allowed. "Well, what is it all about?" her friend demanded. "Who are they anyway?"
Honeychurch, touching the coachman with her parasol. "Here's Sir Harry. Now we shall know. Sir Harry, pull those things down at once!" Sir Harry Otway who need not be described came to the carriage and said "Mrs. Honeychurch, I meant to. I can't, I really can't turn out Miss Flack." "Am I not always right? She ought to have gone before the contract was signed.
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