“I beg pardon, sir. Gilly handed it to me to keep for him. I have neither the desire nor the expectation to wear it.”
Lord Lionel sat down rather limply on the sofa. “I knew something of the sort must have happened. Where has that tiresome boy gone?”
“I have already told you, sir, that I do not know.”
Lord Lionel regarded him frowningly. “Did he dine with you on the day he disappeared, or did he not?”
“He did.”
“Then, confound you, Gideon, what the devil do you mean by telling everyone you had not seen him?” demanded Lord Lionel.
Gideon shrugged, and put up a hand to unhook his tight collar-band. “Being unable to answer further questions, sir, it seemed to me wisest to deny all knowledge of Adolphus.”
“I wish you will not call him that!” said Lord Lionel peevishly. “Do you mean to tell me he did not tell you what his intentions were?”
“He told me merely that he was blue-devilled, sir: a thing I had perceived for myself,” replied Gideon, with a look under his black brows at his father.
“Blue-devilled!” ejaculated Lord Lionel. “I should like to know what cause he had to feel so!”