"Let us dispense with to-morrow night, then," said Monsieur Dupont.
Tranter ran through the cards again.
"There is a dinner at Lord Crumbleton's—which I have too much regard for you to suggest. The Countess is a most estimable lady, who has spent the last fifteen years in vain attempts to become unfaithful to her husband, and now reads the Apocrypha all day for stimulation. You could dine with a high-church clergyman who absolves sins, or an actor-manager who commits them. But stay——" he paused quickly. "I forgot. There is something else." He sorted out a card. "Here is a possibility of amusement that had escaped me."
"Ah!" said Monsieur Dupont.
"George Copplestone has favored me wit an invitation to a select gathering at his house at Richmond, which would be very much more likely to provide answers to riddles. I never accept Copplestone's invitations on principle—although he goes on sending them. But, if you like, I will break my rule, and take you. It is sure to be entertaining, if nothing more."
Monsieur Dupont bowed his gratitude. Tranter replaced the cards, and returned to his seat.
"Copplestone is a remarkable individual, who has learnt what a multitude of sins even a slight financial connection with the Theater will cover. He puts various sums of money into the front of the house to gain unquestioned admission to the back. He has an extraordinary taste for fantasy, and is always startling his friends with some new eccentricity. He is not generally considered to be a desirable acquaintance—and certainly no man in London has less regard for the conventions."
"To confine myself to desirable acquaintances," said Monsieur Dupont, "would be my last wish."
"Then we will go to Richmond to-morrow night. He lives in a very strange house, in a stranger garden—the sort of place that no ordinary normal person could possibly live in. And I warn you that you will find nothing ordinary or normal in it. If you are interested in some of the unaccountable vagaries of human nature, you will enjoy yourself."
"The unaccountable vagaries of human nature," said Monsieur Dupont, "are the foundation of my riddle."