"You grow cryptic, Anthony."
"My dear Perry," said he, beginning to fidget with his stock, "my very dear fellow, as may be supposed, your extraordinary sudden and perfectly inexplicable flight from Wyvelstoke's reception and disappearance has caused no small consternation, and, to one person in particular, very much grief and anxiety. Under these distressing circumstances, I, as your friend, sought an answer to the riddle, the—the reason for your—very mysterious disappearance, and naturally arrive at the conclusion that it is a case of—er—cherchez la femme, Perry—"
"The devil you did!" exclaimed I.
"I haunted all the clubs, Perry, and with your uncles made discreet enquiry for you in every likely and unlikely quarter—yesterday, as a last possibility, I rode down here and learned from George how you came staggering in at dawn, plastered with mud, wet to the skin and accompanied by the lady who, I may inform you, had the good judgment to disappear as soon as possible—"
"The lady," said I, trembling and indignant, "was a poor distracted creature I found on my way—"
"Precisely, dear fellow! So here am I to lend you such assistance in the matter as a friend may. No reason to worry yourself, only in heaven's name be a little discreet, Perry—discretion's the word,"
"Discretion be damned!"
"Precisely, old fellow! And now only mention how I may assist you in this unfortunate situation?"
"By listening to me!"
"Ears wide open, Perry."