‘What is it?’ ‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’ ‘You can leave the young lady to me. I knew it. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. \"Josh Durkin?\" Lucy whispered loudly. She wanted to be on with the show. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own.
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