Meanwhile their alarmed hostess was holding a hasty consultation with her husband, and when the music at last stopped and Mr Bunker was advancing with his most courteous air towards his late partner, Lord Tulliwuddle stepped up to him and touched his arm.
“May I speak to you, sir?” he said.
“Certainly,” replied Mr Bunker. “I shall be honoured. Excuse me for one moment, Lady Muriel.”
“At whose invitation have you come here to-night?” demanded his host, sternly.
“I have the pleasure of addressing Lord Tulliwuddle, have I not?”
“You have, sir.”
Mr Bunker bent towards him and whispered something in his ear.
“From Scotland Yard?” exclaimed his lordship.
“Hush!” said Mr Bunker, glancing cautiously round the room, and then he added, with an air of impressive gravity, “You have a bathroom on the third floor, I believe?”
“I have,” replied his host in great surprise.