I glanced round the room. Just at that moment a waiter from the restaurant presented himself. He brought me a card upon a salver.
"The gentleman asked me to give you this, sir," he announced.
I picked it up. On the back of a plain visiting card were a few hasty words, scrawled in pencil:
"So sorry—but Eve is not feeling quite herself and begged me to take her home at once quietly. My respects and apologies to you and all your delightful guests."
I read it out and passed it to Reggie. His face fell.
"If that isn't a sell!" he exclaimed. "Fancy your knowing them! Isn't Miss
Bundercombe a topper!"
"She is certainly one of the most charming young women I ever met in my life," I admitted.
"I am glad, at any rate," Lady Enterdean declared, "that they have found their way to London. I shall make a point of calling on them myself tomorrow. Now, Paul, you must go and play bridge. They are waiting for you. Don't bother about me —I'll amuse myself quite well strolling round and talking to my friends." I made up a rubber of bridge, chiefly with the idea of distracting my thoughts. Presently, while my partner was playing the hand, I rose and crossed the room to the sideboard for some cigarettes. I found Lady Enterdean peering about with her lorgnette fixed to her eyes, apparently searching for something.
"Lost anything, Lady Enterdean?" I asked.
"A most extraordinary thing has happened, my dear Paul!" she declared, resting her hand on the bosom of her gown. "I am perfectly certain it was there a quarter of an hour ago—my cameo brooch, you know, the one that old Sir Henry brought home from Italy."