"My dear fellow, why did you go out?" said Larcher complainingly. "I have so much to tell you. I have seen Kerry, and now here is a letter from Mrs. Bezel."
"What! is she on the stage again?" said Tait eagerly. "Let me see the letter."
"Not yet," replied Claude, putting it promptly behind his back. "You must first tell me why you left the house, when you ought to be packing up for Horriston."
Tait shrugged his shoulders, bowed to the inevitable, and went into the dining room. Here he sat at the table and began to carve some cold beef, thereby throwing Claude into a rage.
"You cold-blooded little monster," he cried, tapping on the table, "will you satisfy my curiosity?"
"Why should I?" said Tait, grinning. "You won't satisfy mine."
"Then read the letter," retorted Claude, throwing it across the table. To his surprise Tait placed it on one side.
"Not yet!" he said, resuming his carving. "We must have a talk first. Have some beef."
"I don't want beef, but information."
"You shall have both," said Tait calmly. "Do you prefer beer or claret?"