"He was found there, sitting at your husband's table, madame," the Commissioner of Police assured her. "There is no one else."
She suddenly began to cry.
"It isn't Henry!" she sobbed, groping her way from the room. "Take me downstairs, please, some one."
CHAPTER XXIII
TROUBLE BREWING
The maître d'hôtel had presented his bill. The little luncheon party was almost over.
"So I take leave," Hunterleys remarked, as he sat down his empty liqueur glass, "of one of my responsibilities in life."
"I think I'd like to remain a sort of half ward, please," Felicia objected, "in case David doesn't treat me properly."
"If he doesn't," Hunterleys declared, "he will have me to answer to. Seriously, I think you young people are very wise and very foolish and very much to be envied. What does Sidney say about it?"