There was no one very near, though curious faces were turned in his direction, as the grim news of the Raid was passed from mouth to mouth.

He came up close to Stafford and touched his chest with a firm forefinger.
"Every egg in the basket is broken, Stafford.

I'm sure of that.

Dr.
Jim'll never get in now; and there'll be no oeufs a la coque for breakfast.

But there's an omelette to be got out of the mess, if the chef doesn't turn up his nose too high.