"Well," Ellerdine remarked, "this comes of thinking of your friends." He went to the fireplace and gazed rather gloomily at the glowing logs. "May the devil take me if I ever care a damn again what folks think of 'em," he went on.
Alice Attwill went up to the window. "Dicky, it is very strange," she said. "I have never seen Peggy in that nasty mood before."
"I've a jolly good mind to think the worst has happened," the man remarked.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, anyway, Colling is not in Peggy's good books," she said, and, pulling one of the large windows open, she stepped out upon the balcony.
Lord Ellerdine was left alone. His face was grave and perplexed; but seeing the Matin lying on the sofa, where Lady Attwill had dropped it before breakfast, he went up, sat down, and was soon immersed in the news of the day.
There came a light tap upon the door leading into the corridor, which was flung open immediately afterwards. Jacques stood there holding the door open.
"Mr. Admaston," he said in a loud, clear voice.
CHAPTER V
A Thunderbolt crashing through the roof of the hotel could not have startled Lord Ellerdine more than the waiter's announcement: