7
Gilbert and Roger were sitting together when he got home.
“Hilloa, Quinny!” Gilbert exclaimed as he looked at Henry’s white face. “What have you been up to?”
He told them of his adventure in Bermondsey.
“You do do some damn funny things, Quinny!” said Gilbert, going to the sideboard and getting out the whisky. “Here, have a drop of this stuff. You look completely pipped!”
“I don’t think I should make a habit of knight-errantry, if I were you,” said Roger. “Not in slums at all events!”
“Has Ninian come back yet?” Henry asked, sipping the whisky.
“He’s gone to bed. The Gigantic got off all right, but there was trouble at the start. She fouled a cruiser or something. Ninian’s full of it. He’ll tell you the whole rigmarole in the morning. You’d better trot off to bed when you’ve drunk that, and for God’s sake, Quinny, don’t try to be heroic again. You’re not cut out for that sort of job!...”