At that moment the lady entered, gloriously attired, her eyes smouldering.
"What's the matter, Mr. Bullard?"
"Thanks for staying at home in response to my request," he said suavely. "I have hopes that you won't find it a wasted evening. By the way, can you get rid of the attentions of your servants at so early an hour?"
Her sullen eyes brightened with curiosity. "I daresay I can, Mr. Bullard, but may I ask—"
"Please add the favour to the one already granted, and rejoin us here as soon as possible."
When she had gone, Bullard laid the suitcase on a chair, opened it, and took out the Green Box which he placed on the table. Then deliberately, and with a steady hand, he helped himself to a cigarette from his host's silver box, and lit it carefully.
"Well, Lancaster," he said, after exhaling a long whiff, "how's that?"
"Great Heavens!" Lancaster stopped staring and sat down feebly. "How did you get it? Where? Surely not in the same place as before!"
"That I can't tell you. The point that interests me is that it is here now. My story will keep—it's quite good enough for that. By the bye, where are your congratulations?"
Lancaster stretched out a shaking hand. "Take it away, for God's sake," he said. "Don't—don't let my wife see those stones. I tell you again, Bullard—I swear it—I don't want one more than will clear me of that one debt."