Yorke looked at him and at the paper.
"What writ?" he said, not angrily, but with obvious indifference.
"A matter of five bills overdue, my lord. Judgment has been signed a week ago——."
Yorke shook his head.
"You might as well talk Arabic, my man," he said listlessly. "I know nothing about the law——."
"Certainly not, my lord," said the man, as if he would not insult his lordship by suggesting such knowledge. "It isn't to be expected. But your lordship has had the former summonses——."
Yorke shook his head.
"Delivered at you rooms at Bury Street, my lord——."
"I see," said Yorke. He had not opened a letter that looked like a business one since—since the hour he had learnt that Leslie had "jilted" him. "I see. What do you want me to do?"
"Only to go home, my lord, and put in an appearance to-morrow, at the court, you know."