“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
Trevelyan could always inspire. “But don’t you think you were a bit rash?”
Trevelyan scowled.
“We are not here to discuss the wisdom of my wife’s course,” he remarked coldly. “The only question in which we are interested is whether you intend to return the necklace at once.”
It would have been quite impossible for Micky to formulate the vague hope which the juxtaposition of Sir Hubert and the wife of the latter’s unfortunate employee had suggested to him. Indeed, he would undoubtedly have then and there produced and turned over to Lily the package had not the hitherto silent witness behind them created an unexpected diversion, by suddenly swaying and toppling over upon the bunk. Micky darted forward, but Lily had taken in the situation and thrown herself upon her knees by the girl’s side.
“She's fainted!” she cried. “Hand me that pitcher, Micky!”
In another moment she was gently bathing the girl’s forehead while Micky opened the door and windows.
“Dear me!” exclaimed Sir Hubert, as he263
