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"Yes," said Piers, quietly enough.

De Palk clasped his head in his hands. Then he started, stared at his palms and let out a squeal of dismay.

"Mon Dieu," he screamed. "They 'ave serve me the dirty turn."

Berry regarded him earnestly. Then he covered his eyes.

"Good lord," he said, "it's alive. I've been trying to wave it away. 'Love-in-a-Mist' by Epstein. If Rima could see him she'd wrap herself round him and bark."

If it was unfeeling to laugh, the punishment fitted the crime. At the first contraction of the muscles, the concentrated essence of anguish leaped in the top of one's head.

The general bubble of mirth died into cries of pain.

"I can't believe it," wailed Daphne. "D'you mean to say that those people--that nice-looking man is a thief?"

"There's no other answer," said I painfully. "You can't suggest that this is a practical joke."

"But how did they do it?" said Adèle.

"Dope the wine? I don't know. But there weren't any servants up, and--and didn't he freeze the champagne?"

"It is true," screamed de Palk.