Dunsmore
turned round and called "This is private."
Dunn did not seem to hear, and Mr. Dunsmore walked across to him
with a very impatient air, while the little group of tourists
watched, with much interest and indignation and a very comforting
sense of superiority.
"He ought to be sent right out of the grounds," they told each other.
"That's the sort of rude behaviour other people have to suffer for."
"Now, my man," said Mr. Dunsmore sharply, "this is private, you've
no business here."
"Sorry, sir; beg pardon, I'm sure," said Dunn, touching his hat, and
as he did so he said in a sharp, penetrating whisper: "Look out--
trouble's brewing--don't know what, but look out, all the time."
He had spoken so quickly and quietly, in the very act of turning away,
that none of the onlookers could have told that a word had passed, but
for the very violent start that Walter Dunsmore made and his quick
movement forward as if to follow the other. Immediately Dunn turned
back towards him with a swift warning gesture of his hand.
"Careful, you fool, they're looking," he said in a quick whisper,
and in a loud voice: "Very sorry, sir; beg pardon--I'm sure
I didn't mean anything."
Walter Dunsmore swung round upon his heel and went quickly back to
where Lord Chobham waited; and his face was like that of one who
has gazed into the very eyes of death.
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