Left alone, Hector Strong, lord of journalism and swayer of empires, resumed his pacings. His two mistakes with the bell told him that he was distinctly not himself this afternoon. Was it only the need of a new policy for The Vane which troubled him? Or was it——
Could it be Lady Dorothy?
Lady Dorothy Neal was something of an enigma to Hector Strong. He was making more than a million pounds a year, and yet she did not want to marry him. Sometimes he wondered if the woman were quite sane. Yet, mad or sane, he loved her.
A secretary knocked and entered. He waited submissively for half an hour until the Proprietor looked up.
"Well?"
"Lady Dorothy Neal would like to see you for a moment, sir."
"Show her in."
Lady Dorothy came in brightly.
"What nice-looking men you have here," she said. "Who is the one in the blue waistcoat? He has curly hair."
"You didn't come to talk about him?" said Hector reproachfully.