"Of course not—of course not," Mr. Weatherley agreed. "You're quite right, Chetwode. A time for everything, eh? How's the little lady you brought down to Bourne End?"
"She's very well, thank you, sir," Arnold replied.
"Now it's a queer thing," Mr. Weatherley continued, "but only yesterday—or was it the day before—I was trying to think whom she reminded me of. It couldn't have been my brother-in-law, could it, Chetwode. Did you ever fancy that she was like Sabatini?"
"I had noticed it, sir," Arnold admitted, with a little start. "There is a likeness."
"I'm glad you agree with me," Mr. Weatherley declared, approvingly. "Splendid fellow, Sabatini," he continued,—"full of race to his finger-tips. Brave as a lion, too, but unscrupulous. He'd wring a man's neck who refused to do what he told him. Yet do you know, Chetwode, he wouldn't take money from me? He was desperately hard up one day, I know, and I offered him a cheque, but he only shook his head. 'You can look after Fenella,' he said. 'That's all you've got to do. One in the family is enough.' The night after, he played baccarat with Rosario and he won two thousand pounds. Clever fellow—Sabatini. I wish I wasn't so frightened of him. You know the sort of feeling he gives me, Chetwode?" Mr. Weatherley continued. "He always makes me feel that I'm wearing the wrong clothes or doing the wrong thing. I'm never really at my ease when he's about. But I like him—I like him very much indeed."
Arnold had turned a little away. He was beginning to feel the strain of the situation.
"I wish Fenella would come," Mr. Weatherley wandered on. "I don't seem to be able to get on with my work this morning, since you told me she was coming down. Queer thing, although I was with her last evening, you know, Chetwode, I feel, somehow, as though I'd been away from her for weeks and weeks. I can't remember exactly how long—there's such a buzzing in my head when I try. What do you do when you have a buzzing in your head, Chetwode?"
"I generally try and rest in an easy-chair," Arnold replied.
"I'll try that, too," Mr. Weatherley decided, rising to his feet. "It's a—most extraordinary thing, Chetwode, but my knees are shaking. Hold me up—catch hold of me, quick!"
Arnold half carried him to the easy-chair. The horn of the automobile sounded outside.