"Did he?" He would obviously have liked to ask more questions. "That's being neighborly, at all events," he ventured to comment, with a covert leer. "We shall be seeing Fillingford—or even Lady Sarah—here next!"
"More unlikely things than that have happened."
"That's what I always remember," he remarked, nodding sagaciously over his long tumbler. "What I say is—try your luck, even if it does need a bit of cheek."
I had a notion that Dormer was inclining toward the confidential.
"If it doesn't come off, you're no worse than you were before. If it does, there you are, by Jove!"
"I should think that must be every successful man's philosophy. But what, may I ask, makes this call on your reserve of cheek, Dormer?—which will, I make no doubt, be equal to it."
"Wait and see," he answered, with a pronounced wink. Having executed this operation, his eye turned to Lacey, visible through the window of the smoking room where we were. "There'll be a row at Fillingford Manor some day soon—that's my opinion."
"Let's wait and see about that, too," I suggested mildly. Now he was trying to make me confidential.
He winked again. "You're a pretty safe old chap, Austin," he was good enough to tell me.
When we returned to the terrace, Lacey was ready to start and, with a look at his watch, Dormer went up to Jenny to say good-by. During our brief absence Alison had departed—to set about his commission, as I hoped.