"How do you do, Mr. McEachern?" inquired Jimmy genially. "Quite a surprise meeting you in England. A pleasant surprise. By the way, one generally shakes hands in the smartest circles. Yours seem to be down there somewhere. Might I trouble you? Right. Got it? Thanks!"
He bent forward, possessed himself of Mr. McEachern's right hand, which was hanging limply at its proprietor's side, shook it warmly, and replaced it.
"'Wahye?" asked Mr. McEachern gruffly, giving a pleasing air of novelty to the hackneyed salutation by pronouncing it as one word. He took some little time getting into his stride when carrying on polite conversation.
"Very well, thank you. You're looking as strong as ever, Mr. McEachern."
The ex-policeman grunted. In a conversational sense, he was sparring for wind.
Molly had regained her composure by this time. Her father was taking the thing better than she had expected.
"It's Jimmy, father, dear," she said. "Jimmy Pitt."
"Still well," replied Jimmy cheerfully. "Sitting up, you will notice," he added, waving a hand in the direction of his teacup, "and taking nourishment. No further bulletins will be issued."
"Jimmy is staying here, father. He is the friend Spennie was bringing."
"This is the friend that Spennie brought," said Jimmy in a rapid undertone. "This is the maiden all forlorn who crossed the seas, and lived in the house that sheltered the friend that Spennie brought."
"I see, me dear," said Mr. McEachern slowly. "'Wah----"
"No, I've guessed that one already," said Jimmy. "Ask me another."
Molly looked reproachfully at him. His deplorable habit of chaffing her father had caused her trouble in the old days. It may be admitted that this recreation of Jimmy's was not in the best taste; but it must also be remembered that the relations between the two had always been out of the ordinary. Great as was his affection for Molly, Jimmy could not recollect a time when war had not been raging in a greater or lesser degree between the ex-policeman and himself.
"It is very kind of you to invite me down here," said he. "We shall be able to have some cozy chats over old times when I was a wanderer on the face of the earth, and you----"
"Yis, yis," interrupted Mr. McEachern hastily, "somewhere ilse, aftherward."