“The orders were that he was always to be told when Mr. Strangeways was like this, under all circumstances. I can't quiet him, Mr. Burrill. He says he must see him at once.”
Burrill walked back stiffly to the dining-room.
“It won't trouble HIM much to be disturbed at his wine,” he muttered before going. “He doesn't know hock from port.”
When the message was delivered to him, Tembarom excused himself with simple lack of ceremony.
“I 'll be back directly,” he said to Palliser. “Those are good cigars.” And he left the room without going into the matter further.
Palliser took one of the good cigars, and in taking it exchanged a glance with Burrill which distantly conveyed the suggestion that perhaps he had better remain for a moment or so. Captain Palliser's knowledge of interesting detail was obtained “by chance here and there,” he sometimes explained, but it was always obtained with a light and casual air.
“I am not sure,” he remarked as he took the light Burrill held for him and touched the end of his cigar—“I am not quite sure that I know exactly who Mr. Strangeways is.”
“He's the gentleman, sir, that Mr. Temple Barholm brought over from New York,” replied Burrill with a stolidity clearly expressive of distaste.
“Indeed, from New York! Why doesn't one see him?”
“He's not in a condition to see people, sir,” said Burrill, and Palliser's slightly lifted eyebrow seeming to express a good deal, he added a sentence, “He's not all there, sir.”