‘I’ll tell him you’re here, sir,’ said Simpkin.
In another moment Richard was greeting the second Baron Dolmer in the dining-room, a stylish little apartment trimmed with oak. Lord Dolmer breakfasted in the Continental fashion, taking coffee at eight, and déjeuner about eleven. He had the habit of smoking during a meal, and the border of his plate, which held the remains of a kidney, showed a couple of cigarette-ends. He gave Richard a cigarette from his gold case, and Simpkin supplemented this hospitality with a glass of adorable and unique sherry.
‘We will deprive ourselves of your presence, Simpkin,’ said Lord Dolmer, who, a very simple and good-natured man at heart, had nevertheless these little affectations.
‘Certainly, sir,’ said the privileged Simpkin, who liked to hear his master use these extraordinary phrases.
‘And now, Redgrave, what is it? You pride yourself, I know, on your inscrutable features, but I perceive that there is something up.’
‘Well,’ said Richard, ‘it’s about that Craig affair. I thought I’d just call and tell you privately that I can’t do anything. I should like, if you and Mr. Lock don’t object, to retire from it.’
‘Singular!’ exclaimed Lord Dolmer mildly—, ‘highly singular! Tell me the details, my friend.’
Richard, rather to his own surprise, began to tell the story, omitting, however, all reference to Micky, the detective.
‘And do you believe Mr. Raphael Craig’s tale?’ asked Lord Dolmer. ‘It seems to me scarcely to fit in with some of the facts which you have related.’
Richard took breath.