“You here, my dear Riatt!” he said, grasping him cordially by the hand. “Christine, I’m afraid—”
“I’ve sent up to see,” said Max, curtly.
“Ah, well, my dear fellow,” Mr. Fenimer went on easily, “come, you know, a man really can’t go off in the casual way you did and expect to find everything just as he likes when he comes back. I have a word to say to you myself. Shall we walk as far as the corner together?”
To receive his dismissal from Mr. Fenimer was something that Riatt had never contemplated.
“I should prefer to wait until the footman comes down,” he answered.
“No use, no use,” said Mr. Fenimer, suddenly becoming jovial, “I happen to know that Christine is out. Come back a little later—”
“And whose hat is that, then?” asked Max.
It had been carelessly left on its crown and the initials “L.L.” were plainly visible.
Mr. Fenimer could not on the instant think of an answer, and Riatt decided to go upstairs unannounced.
As he opened the drawing-room door he heard Christine’s voice saying: “Thank you, I shall please myself, Lee, even without your kind permission.”