CHAPTER XI
ANOTHER LULL
Though Chelubai, to secure greater secrecy of movement, had come down to Aldley on the Hill on a motor-bicycle, he returned with us to town by train. He was crestfallen and melancholy, and heaped many reproaches on me for spoiling the execution of an admirably planned operation by what he called my childish fad.
Angel and I, on the contrary, were simmering with joy. Not only had we avoided a removal, of the propriety of which we were not entirely convinced, but also we had divested ourselves of the Old Man of the Sea with whom Chelubai had entwined us. The apparently trivial reason I had given for casting out Sir Reginald had made our breach with him far more difficult to repair than if I had alleged a more serious cause. But when I grew tired of Chelubai's melancholy injustice, with some malice I explained to Angel that though she and I were for ever free from the bridge and conversation of Sir Reginald, Chelubai and Bottiger would still endure both, would still have to suffer the penalty of the imprudent encourage-
