Mr. Twist uncomfortably felt that Li Koo had somehow been clever.  Impossible, however, to go back on him, having eaten his cakes.  Besides, they were perfect cakes, blown together apparently out of flowers and honey and cream,—­cakes which, combined with Mrs. Bilton’s hair, would make the fortune of The Open Arms.

The coloured lady, therefore, was sent away, disappointed in spite of the douceur and fair words Mr. Twist gave her; and she was so much disappointed that they could hear her being it out loud all the way along the passage and down the stairs, and the nature of her expression of her disappointment was such that Mr. Twist, as he tried by animated conversation to prevent it reaching the twins’ ears, could only be thankful after all that Li Koo had been so clever.  It did, however, reach the twins’ ears, but they didn’t turn a hair because of Uncle Arthur.  They merely expressed surprise at its redness, seeing that it came out of somebody so black.

Directly after this trip to Los Angeles advertisements began to creep over the countryside.  They crept along the roads where motorists were frequent and peeped at passing cars round corners and over hedges.  They were taciturn advertisements, and just said three words in big, straight, plain white letters on a sea-blue ground: 

THE OPEN ARMS

People passing in their cars saw them, and vaguely thought it must be the name of a book.  They had better get it.  Other people would have got it.  It couldn’t be a medicine nor anything to eat, and was probably a religious novel.  Novels about feet or arms were usually religious.  A few considered it sounded a little improper, and as though the book, far from being religious, would not be altogether nice; but only very proper people who distrusted everything, even arms took this view.

After a week the same advertisements appeared with three lines added: 

THE OPEN ARMS
    YES
    BUT
WHY?  WHERE?  WHAT?

and then ten days after that came fresh ones: 

THE OPEN ARMS
  WILL OPEN
    WIDE

On November 20th at Four P.M.

N.B.  WATCH THE SIGNPOSTS.

And while the countryside—­an idle countryside, engaged almost wholly in holiday-making and glad of any new distraction—­began to be interested and asked questions, Mr. Twist was working day and night at getting the thing ready.

All day long he was in Acapulco or out at the cottage, urging, hurrying, criticizing, encouraging, praising and admonishing.  His heart and soul and brain was in this, his business instincts and his soft domestic side.  His brain, after working at top speed during the day with the architect, the painter and decorator, the furnisher, the garden expert, the plumbing expert, the electric-light expert, the lawyer, the estate agent, and numberless other persons, during the night meditated and evolved advertisements.  There was to be a continual stream week by week after the inn was opened of ingenious advertisements.  Altogether Mr. Twist had his hands full.