The coupe drew up before the great block of buildings in which was Wingrave’s flat. The footman threw open the door.
“Come in with me,” Wingrave said. “I have something more to say to you.”
“I would rather not,” the young man muttered, and would have slouched off, but Wingrave caught him by the arm.
“Come!” he said firmly, and the youth obeyed.
Wingrave led the way into his sitting room and dismissed his servant who was setting out a tray upon the sideboard.
“Sit down,” he ordered, and his strange guest again obeyed. Wingrave looked at him critically.
“It seems to me,” he said deliberately, “that you are another of those poor fools who chuck away their life and happiness and go to the dogs because a woman had chosen to make a little use of them. You’re out of work, I suppose?”
“Yes!”
“Hungry?”
“I suppose so.”