"We three will have a little talk to ourselves afterwards," he suggested. "At eight o'clock—Number 17, Belgrave Square."
Jesson strolled away after a little desultory conversation. Chalmers looked after him thoughtfully.
"Harmless-looking chap, isn't he?" he observed. "Yet I'll let you in on this, Dorminster: there isn't another living person who knows so much of what is going on behind the scenes in Europe as that man."
"Why has he chucked his job, then?" Nigel enquired.
"He will tell you that to-night," was Chalmers' quiet reply.
CHAPTER VIII
"I don't think I shall marry you, after all," Maggie announced that evening, as she stood looking at herself in one of the gilded mirrors with which the drawing-room at Belgrave Square was adorned.
"Why not?" Nigel asked, with polite anxiety.