"Yes. I am not seriously ill," his friend answered. "The worst is over now. And, Duncombe, it's hard for you to go, I know—but look here, I believe that you will be back in a month, and taking Miss Poynton to lunch chez Ritz. I never felt so sure of it as I do to-day."
Duncombe remembered the answer to his note, and found it hard to share his friend's cheerfulness.
CHAPTER VIII
A POLITICAL INTERLUDE
Duncombe laid down his cue and strolled towards the sideboard, where his guest was already mixing himself a whisky and soda.
"By the by, Runton," he said, "have you seen anything of our friend Von Rothe since that little affair at your place?"
Lord Runton shook his head.
"Not once," he answered. "He behaved very decently about it on the whole; treated it quite lightly—but he wouldn't let me go near the police. It was a long way the most unpleasant thing that ever happened in my house."