The Amateur Cracksman
I had turned the tables with some effect Raffles almost hung his head.
"The fact is, Bunny, I didn't mean you to know. You—you've grown such a pious rabbit in your old age!"
My nickname and his tone went far to mollify me, other things went farther, but I had much to forgive him still.
"If you were afraid of writing," I pursued, "it was your business to give me the tip the moment I set foot on board. I would have taken it all right. I am not so virtuous as all that."
Was it my imagination, or did Raffles look slightly ashamed? If so, it was for the first and last time in all the years I knew him; nor can I swear to it even now.
"That," said he, "was the very thing I meant to do—to lie in wait in my room and get you as you passed. But——"
"You were better engaged?"
"Say otherwise."
"The charming Miss Werner?"
"She is quite charming."
"Most Australian girls are," said I.
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