Something which was almost like the ghost of a smile, devoid of any trace of humour, parted Mr. Grex's lips.
"If I count that for anything!" he repeated, half closing his eyes for a moment. "Pray proceed, young man."
"I am an American," Richard continued. "My name is Richard Lane. My father was very wealthy and I am his heir. My sister is Lady Weybourne. I was lunching with her at Ciro's to-day when I saw you and your daughter. I think I can say that I am a respectable person. I have a great many friends to whom I can refer you."
"I am not thinking of engaging anybody, that I know of," Mr. Grex murmured.
"I want to marry your daughter," Richard declared desperately, feeling that any further form of explanation would only lead him into greater trouble.
Mr. Grex knocked the ash from his cigarette.
"Is your keeper anywhere in the vicinity?" he asked.
"I am perfectly sane," Richard assured him. "I know that it sounds foolish but it isn't really. I am twenty-seven years old and I have never asked a girl to marry me yet. I have been waiting until—"
The words died away upon his lips. It was impossible for him to continue, the cold enmity of this man was too chilling.
"I am absolutely in earnest," he insisted. "I have been endeavouring all day to find some mutual friend to introduce me to your daughter. Will you do so? Will you give me a chance?"