The man led the way and pushed open the door of a small apartment used on busy occasions for a service room. Wingate thrust in his struggling burden and locked the door.
"Strong panels?" he enquired, pausing for a moment to listen to the blows directed upon them.
The head waiter smiled.
"They're more than one man can break through, sir," he assured him.
Wingate made his way back to the supper party. Half of the guests were on their feet. He met Sir Frederick near the door.
"Sorry, Sir Frederick, if I am in any way responsible for this little disturbance," he said, as he made his way towards his place. "I think if I were you, I should give this key to one of the commissionaires a little later on. Lord Dredlinton is quite safe for the present."
Sir Frederick patted him on the shoulder.
"Most unprovoked attack," he declared. "Delighted to have made your acquaintance, Mr. Wingate, you treated him exactly as he deserved."
Wingate resumed his place and held out his glass to the waiter. Then he raised it to his lips. The glass was full to the brim but his fingers were perfectly steady. He looked down the table towards Phipps, whose expression was noncommittal, and gently disemburdened himself of Flossie's arm, which had stolen through his.
"I think you are the most wonderful man I ever met," she confided.