"What 's matter, Jimmy?" said Melba.
"I—I—I want to talk to you," said Jimmy nervously, and singularly sober. He looked at Booby.
"Oh, don't mind me," said Booby.
"Well, but we do," said Jimmy ruefully, and he drew Melba into the passage outside.
"There 's a row up," he said.
"What about?" said Melba.
"Old Brassington," said Jimmy in a nervous whisper.
"Peached? He wouldn't dare," whispered Melba incredulously.
"Why not?" said Jimmy, agonised. "I 've been called, you know. Called up from Ormeston. Urgently. By the lawyer. There 's a thing in the law, Melba, called 'duress.'"
"Oh, rats! He can't prove anything!"
"Damn it all!" said Jimmy, "we don't know that."
"He wouldn't make a fool of himself," continued Melba uncomfortably.
"You can't ever tell with these old jossers. Anyhow, that lawyer chap my father knows, the man we got the house from, has rung me up, and I 've got to go and see him in Ormeston to-night by the 10.15."
