“In my pocket,” said I, feeling for it. “No! Why I must have left it at the Golden House.”
The President came to my assistance.
“I saw it on the table just before we started. Though I presume Mr. Jones has no right—”
“None at all,” I said briskly.
“Yet, as a matter of concession, Mr. Martin will no doubt show it to him to-morrow?”
“Strictly as a matter of concession perhaps I will, though I am bound to say that I am surprised at your manner, Mr. Jones.”
Jones looked sadly puzzled.
“It’s all irregular, sir,” said he.
“Hardly more so than your costume!” said the President pleasantly.
Jones was a modest man, and being thus made aware of the havoc the draught was playing with his airy covering, he hastily closed the door, and said to me appealingly: