"After dinner," Mr. Foley remarked, as he lit a cigarette, "we are going to talk. At present, Maraton is under a solemn promise to play tennis."
Maraton looked towards the house.
"If I might be allowed," he said, "I will go and put on my flannels.
Lady Elisabeth is making up a set, I think."
He turned towards the house. The two men stood watching him.
"Is he to be bought?" Lord Armley asked, in a low tone.
Mr. Foley shook his head.
"Not with money or place," he answered thoughtfully.
"There isn't a man breathing who hasn't his price, if you could only discover what it is," Lord Armley declared, as he took a cigarette from his case and lit it.
"A truism, my friend," Mr. Foley admitted, "which I have always considered a little nebulous. However, we shall see. We have a few hours' respite, at any rate."