"Damn it all! I'm not obliged to go there, am I?" Heneage exclaimed testily.
Wrayson looked at him in amazement. Heneage, as a rule, was one of the most deliberate and even-tempered of men.
"Of course not," he answered. "You won't mind telling me how the Colonel is, though, will you?"
"I believe he is very well," Heneage answered, more calmly. "He doesn't come up to town so often this hot weather. Forgive me for being a bit impatient, old fellow. I've got a fit of nerves, I think."
"You want a change," Wrayson said earnestly. "There's no doubt about that."
"I am going away very soon," Heneage answered. "As soon as I can get off. I don't mind telling you, Wrayson, that I've had a shock, and it has upset me."
Wrayson nodded sympathetically.
"All right, old chap," he said. "I'm beastly sorry, but if you take my advice, you'll get out of London as soon as you can. Go to Trouville or Dinard, or some place where there's plenty of life. I shouldn't busy myself in the country, if I were you. By the bye," he added, "there is one more question I should like to ask you, if you don't mind."
Heneage called a waiter and ordered more drinks. Then he turned to Wrayson.
"Well," he said, "go on!"