Thomson nodded.
“Very likely,” he admitted. “It was just a chance, any way.”
“By-the-bye,” Granet inquired curiously, looking up from the dog, “how did you know that I roomed here?”
“I happened to see you come in, or was it go out, the other day—I can’t remember which,” Major Thomson replied.
The telephone upon the table tinkled out a summons. Granet crossed the room and held the receiver to his ear.
“This is Captain Granet speaking,” he said. “Who are you, please?”
The reply seemed to surprise him. He glanced across at his visitor.
“I shall be delighted,” he answered into the instrument. “It is really very kind of you.... About a quarter past eight?... Certainly! You’ll excuse my not being able to get into mufti, won’t you?... Ever so many thanks.... Good-bye!”
He laid down the receiver and turned to Thomson.
“Rather a coincidence,” he observed. “Seems I am going to see you to-night at dinner. That was Miss Geraldine Conyers who just rang up—asked me if I’d like to meet her brother again before he goes off. He is spending the afternoon at the Admiralty and she thought I might be interested.”