It was a little before eleven that Balmayne came in. He was very quiet and subdued; he sat and unfolded an evening paper. He shot a sign across to the Countess from a pair of eyes that gleamed like flames.
"I should like a fresh handkerchief, Hetty," she said. "Would you mind?"
Hetty was off at once. Balmayne jumped to his feet.
"You must try and pull yourself together," he said. "There has been an amazing piece of luck. Isidore was dining at the Lotus with Lawrence. We came down the steps together. There was a fire close by, and a hansom backed on to the pavement. To make a long story short, Isidore fainted with the pain of a broken collarbone, and they took him to Charing Cross Hospital."
"You took him. In that case I need not ask----"
"You need not. I didn't take him personally. I took his keys."
Leona Lalage was off the sofa directly. She motioned to the door. As Hetty came back the sufferer crossed the room languidly, saying she was going to lie down on her bed. She required no attention, she only wanted to be absolutely quiet.
Once upstairs Balmayne followed. There was nobody on the landing.
"Now is your chance," he said. "It is a pretty neat turn of fortune for us. I've got the motor round and will meet you at the corner of the street. You had better be disguised."
"But I have only one disguise in the house--the old one."