Glynn was staring at the table in consternation. Where had been the use of all the pretence that he had come unexpectedly on an unpremeditated visit? His telegram had only this minute arrived--and yet there was the table laid for three people. Thresk followed the direction of his visitor's eyes.
"Oh, I see," he said with a laugh.
Glynn flushed. No wonder Thresk was amused. He had been sitting at the table; and between himself and his wife the third place was laid.
"I will go up and change," said Glynn awkwardly.
"Well, don't be long!" replied Thresk.
Glynn followed Martin to the guest-room. But he was annoyed. He did not, under any circumstances, like to look a fool. But he had the strongest possible objection to travelling three hundred miles in order to look it. If he wanted to look a fool, he grumbled, he could have managed it just as well in the Midlands.
But he was to be more deeply offended. For when he came down into the dining-room he walked to the table and drew out the vacant chair. At once Thresk shot out his hand and stopped him.
"You mustn't sit there!" he cried violently. Then his face changed. Slowly the smile of amusement reappeared upon it. "After all, why not?" he said. "Try, yes, try," and he watched Glynn with a strange intentness.
Glynn sat down slowly. A trick was being played upon him--of that he was sure. He was still more sure when Thresk's face relaxed and he broke into a laugh.
"Well, that's funny!" he cried, and Glynn, in exasperation, asked indignantly: