'And now,' he said, taking up his hat, 'to seek the Midland Hotel, and face whichever Ferrier the Fates may send me. Probably I shall have my walk for nothing; they will be engaged in business, these interesting victims of a misunderstanding which I so deeply deplore.'
He smiled hopefully at himself in the glass, and went out.
'Is Mr Ferrier in?' he asked, when he reached the Midland Hotel, and the answer being 'Yes,' he turned into the coffee-room to wait, still uncertain as to which brother he should see.
It was Richard who came down to him after a few minutes—Richard, whose face, ulster, and soft hat all seemed to be of the same shade of drab.
'Good morning, Count Litvinoff,' he said; 'can I be of any service to you?'
'It was your brother I wished to see,' said the Count. 'He did me the honour to spend a few moments at my rooms last night, and I think this must be his. May I trouble you to give it to him?'
Here he produced the cigar-case.
'I don't think it belongs to my brother,' said Richard, 'and I'm sorry I can't do anything in the matter; but I sha'n't see him again.'
'Ah! you are leaving London?'
'I'm leaving this hotel.'