Crum's voice said slow and level: "Look at that bounder, he's screwed!" Val turned to look.

The 'bounder' had disengaged his arm, and was pointing straight at them.

Crum's voice, level as ever, said: "He seems to know you!" The 'bounder' spoke: "H'llo!" he said.

"You f'llows, look! There's my young rascal of a son!" Val saw.

It was his father! He could have sunk into the crimson carpet.
It was not the meeting in this place, not even that his father was 'screwed'; it was Crum's word 'bounder,' which, as by heavenly revelation, he perceived at that moment to be true.