"Of course. Of course." The words were spoken soothingly, but without conviction. "We men understand. It's Lady Beddow who—— Such events are women's great occasions. She's a stickler for form. As you say, you can explain later—— But that wasn't what I called you up about."
Tabs stifled a yawn. He had suddenly discovered he was sleepy.
"What was that you said?" Sir Tobias enquired suspiciously.
"I didn't say anything," Tabs replied politely. "But I think I know what you called me up about. It was about Maisie—I mean Mrs. Lockwood."
"What about her?" The question was asked carelessly; he knew at once that he had missed his guess. It was strange, even though he had guessed wrongly, that Sir Tobias should not display more interest.
"What about her? Only that I've spent the last six hours with her. You asked me to see her as soon as possible, you remember. I had only just got home from being with her, when the telephone rang. She's not the woman we thought her."
"Eh? What's that?"
He repeated what he had said. He was perfectly certain that Sir Tobias had heard the first time. "She's not the woman we thought her." And he added, "There's been some mistake. She hasn't and never did have any designs on Adair. After we'd talked things over, she agreed of her own accord never to see him again."
"She did!" There was a long pause, expressive of skepticism, dissatisfaction, or anything that he cared to conjecture. Then, "When we meet, you can tell me. But that wasn't what I called you up about."