"It's no use, Minot," said Harrowby hopelessly. "I've gone all over it with this chap. He won't listen to reason. What the deuce am I to do?"
A knock sounded on the door and Spencer Meyrick, red-faced, flirting with apoplexy, strode into the room.
"Lord Harrowby," he announced, "I desire to see you alone."
"Er—step into the bedroom," Harrowby suggested.
Mr. Huntley rose promptly to his feet.
"Nix," he said. "There's a door out of that room leading into the hall. If you go in there, I go, too."
Mr. Meyrick glared. Harrowby stood embarrassed.
"Very well," said Meyrick through his teeth. "We'll stay here. It doesn't matter to me. I simply want to say, Lord Harrowby, that when you get to Jersey City you needn't trouble to come back, as far as my family is concerned."
A look of pain came into Harrowby's thin face.
"Not come back," he said. "My dear sir—"