“Do you question my statement, sir?”
He flapped round with a mockery of fierceness. The little man fell back, scared.
“Oh, dear me, no!” he cried.
Sir Robert laughed again, shot a contemptuous look at the group by the table, and went quietly from the room.
In the Club-hall he came to a momentary pause.
“The fellow should have fought,” he muttered. “I would have made myself a broad target to him.”
Then he sighed.
“But there’s a shorter cut.”
CHAPTER II.
Sir Robert Linne, as he left the club, had no thought but to sever the tangle of things by cutting his own throat. He intended to do this agreeably and decently, and to step off the world into chaos with as little inconvenience to himself and to others as was compatible with the severity of the deed.