CHAPTER IIIRobbery!
A long pale gout of cream smacked Owen neatly across the face. The jug crashed against the wall behind him and fell in fragments to the carpet. Dr. Krafft shook his white head mildly and sipped his coffee. Nothing could perturb Dr. Krafft.
Owen with a trembling hand mopped the cream from his face. What he might have done as soon as he could see again is a moot question. He thinks now he would have knocked Uncle’s teeth in with a convenient plate. But he had no time. For Uncle Edmund’s hearty laughter rang out above the buzz of rage in Owen’s ears. Paper crackled.
“Look at this, you young nincompoop!” Uncle Edmund cried. “Wipe the cream off your stupid face and look at this!” And he laughed again, so merrily, so richly, that Peter Owen’s heart sank like a plummet.
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