‘We have met before this?’ he asked.
‘Once,’ Paul replied.
‘Castle Barfield?’
‘Exactly.’
‘If you’d rather shelve that——’
‘Certainly not—between ourselves.’
The hostess took the escort of the eminent diplomatist who was the doyen of the party. The men followed as it pleased them. Ralston and Paul went last.
‘I am a prophet,’ said Ralston, subduing that richly hoarse voice of his. ‘I told you you would do, and you have done.’