er—not a drop to drink." (But what on earth, he wondered to himself, were they betting about?)
"'Nor any drop to drink,' to be accurate."
Bill looked at him in surprise. Then a happy smile came on his face.
"Quite sure?" he said.
"Of course."
"Then you've saved me a lot of trouble. That's, what the bet was about." He closed the book with a slam, put it back in its shelf, and began to feel for his pipe and tobacco. "I was a fool to bet with Tony," he added. "He always knows that sort of thing."
So far, so good. But here was Cayley still in the library, and there was Antony, all unsuspecting, in the passage. When Antony came back he would not be surprised to find the door closed, because the whole object of his going had been to see if he could open it easily from the inside. At any moment, then, the bookshelf might swing back and show Antony's head in the gap. A nice surprise for Cayley!
"Come with us?" he said casually, as he struck a match. He pulled vigorously at the flame as he waited for the answer, hoping to hide his anxiety, for if Cayley assented, he was done.
"I've got to go into Stanton."
Bill blew out a great cloud of smoke with an expiration which covered also a heartfelt sigh of relief.
"Oh, a pity. You're driving, I suppose?"
