He looked round and saw the Annas picking their way toward him.  They seemed in a hurry.

“Hello,” he called out.

They made no reply to this, but continued hurriedly to pick their way among the obstacles in their path.  They appeared to be much perturbed.  What, he wondered, had they done with Mrs. Bilton?  He soon knew.

“We’ve given Mrs. Bilton notice,” panted Anna-Rose as soon as she got near enough to his ear for him to hear her in the prevailing noise.

Her face, as usual when she was moved and excited, was scarlet, her eyes looking bluer and brighter than ever by contrast.

“We simply can’t stand it any longer,” she went on as Mr. Twist only stared at her.

“And you wouldn’t either if you were us,” she continued, the more passionately as he still didn’t say anything.

“Of course,” said Anna-Felicitas, taking a high line, though her heart was full of doubt, “it’s your fault really.  We could have borne it if we hadn’t had to have her at night.”

“Come outside,” said Mr. Twist, walking toward the door that led on to the verandah.

They followed him, Anna-Rose shaking with excitement, Anna-Felicitas trying to persuade herself that they had acted in the only way consistent with real wisdom.

The architect stood with a log in each hand looking after them and smiling all by himself.  There was something about the Twinklers that lightened his heart whenever he caught sight of them.  He and his fellow experts had deplored the absence of opportunities since Mrs. Bilton came of developing the friendship begun the first day, and talked of them on their way home in the afternoons with affectionate and respectful familiarity as The Cutes.

“Now,” said Mr. Twist, having passed through the verandah and led the twins to the bottom of the garden where he turned and faced them, “perhaps you’ll tell me exactly what you’ve done.”

“You should rather inquire what Mrs. Bilton has done,” said Anna-Felicitas, pulling herself up as straight and tall as she would go.  She couldn’t but perceive that the excess of Christopher’s emotion was putting her at a disadvantage in the matter of dignity.

“I can guess pretty much what she has done,” said Mr. Twist.

“You can’t—­you can’t,” burst out Anna-Rose.  “Nobody could—­nobody ever could—­who hadn’t been with her day and night.”

“She’s just been Mrs. Bilton,” said Mr. Twist, lighting a cigarette to give himself an appearance of calm.

“Exactly,” said Anna-Felicitas.  “So you won’t be surprised at our having just been Twinklers.”

“Oh Lord,” groaned Mr. Twist, in spite of his cigarette, “oh, Lord.”

“We’ve given Mrs. Bilton notice,” continued Anna-Felicitas, making a gesture of great dignity with her hand, “because we find with regret that she and we are incompatible.”

“Was she aware that you were giving it her?” asked Mr. Twist, endeavouring to keep calm.