As he dressed for dinner that night his telephone rang, and Miss Meyrick's voice sounded over the wire.
"Harrowby remembers you very pleasantly. Won't you join us at dinner?"
"Are you sure an outsider—" he began.
"Nonsense. Mr. Martin Wall is to be there."
"Ah—thank you—I'll be delighted," Minot replied.
In the lobby Harrowby seized his hand.
"My dear chap—you're looking fit. Great to see you again. By the way—do you know Martin Wall?"
"Yes—Mr. Wall and I met just before the splash," Minot smiled. He shook hands with Wall, unaccountably genial and beaming. "The Hudson, Mr. Wall, is a bit chilly in February."
"My dear fellow," said Wall, "can you ever forgive me? A thousand apologies. It was all a mistake—a horrible mistake."
"I felt like a rotter when I heard about it," Harrowby put in. "Martin mistook you for some one else. You must forgive us both."