"At the club, if I can get a room," I answered. "I shall try there before
I go to an hotel, at any rate."
"Come and have some lunch first," Sir Gilbert said firmly. "You can see about your room afterwards. Remember your appointment is at three o'clock."
I acquiesced, and got into a cab with my cousin. I was perfectly aware that he was almost consumed with curiosity. He scarcely waited until we were off before he began.
"Hardross!" he asked, "what's up?"
"Nothing particular," I answered lamely.
"Rubbish!" he declared, "you are the last man in the world I should have expected to see in town the second week in September! You haven't come for nothing, have you? And then this interview with Lord Polloch. What on earth can you have to say to the Prime Minister?"
"I'm afraid, Gilbert," I answered, "that I can't tell you—just yet. You see it isn't my own affair at all. It's—another man's secret."
My cousin was palpably disappointed.
"Well," he said, a little curtly, "whatever sort of a secret it is, it hasn't agreed with you very well. I never saw you look so seedy—and years older too! What on earth have you been doing with yourself?"
I shrugged my shoulders.