I stopped swinging my legs and looked at her.

"Did you, indeed." I said coldly.

My sister nodded dreamily.

"Then you lied, darling. In your white throat," I said
pleasantly.

"By the way, d'you know if the petrol's come?"

"I don't even care," said Daphne. "But I didn't lie, old chap.
My word is- "

"Your bond? Quite so. But not mine. The appointment I have in
Town that day-"

"Which day?" said Daphne, with a faint smile.

"The fete day."

"Ah!"

It was a bazaar fete thing. Daphne and several others -
euphemistically styled workers- had conspired and agreed together
to obtain money by false pretences for and on behalf of a certain
mission, to wit the Banana. I prefer to put it that way. There
is a certain smack about the wording of an indictment. Almost a
relish. The fact that two years before I had been let in for a
stall and had defrauded fellow men and women of a considerable