O'Toole brought his hand down upon the arm of the chair.

"There's the very story," he cried. "To be sure, you are a great man,
Charles. The most probable convincing story that was ever invented! Oh!
but you'll hear Jenny sob with pity for the heiress and Lucius O'Toole
when she hears it. It will be a bad day, too, for the merciless parents
when they discover Jenny in her Highness's bed. She stands six feet in
her stockings."

"Six feet!" exclaimed Wogan.

"In her stockings," returned O'Toole. "Her height is her one vanity.
Therefore in her shoes she is six feet four."

"Well, she must take her heels off and make herself as short as she
can."

"You will have trouble, my friend, to persuade her to that," said
O'Toole.

"Hush!" said Gaydon. He rose and unlocked the door. The doctor was
knocking for admission below. Gaydon let him in, and he dressed Wogan's
wounds with an assurance that they were not deep and that a few days'
quiet would restore him.

"I will sleep the night here if I may," said Wogan, as soon as the
doctor had gone. "A blanket and a chair will serve my turn."

They took him into Gaydon's bedroom, where three beds were ranged.