He read the letter slowly, and he stopped again and again as though to steady himself. His face became strained and white, and once he poured brandy and drank it off as though it were water. When he had finished the letter he went heavily over to the fire and dropped it in. He watched it burn, until only the flimsy carbon was left.
"If I had not gone till noon," he said aloud, in a nerveless voice—"if I had not gone till noon ... Fellowes—did she—or was it Byng?"
He was so occupied with his thoughts that he was not at first conscious that some one was knocking.
"Come in," he called out at last.
The door opened and Rudyard Byng entered.
"I am going to South Africa, Stafford," he said, heavily. "I hear that you are going, too; and I have come to see whether we cannot go out together."
CHAPTER XXVII
KROOL
"A message from Mr. Byng to say that he may be a little late, but he says will you go on without him? He will come as soon as possible."