"I am known as Brother Jerome. Tell your master that my business is urgent. Go; I am in a hurry."
"Rum party, that," murmured the servant. "Don't understand him; don't like him. All the same, I can't shut the door in his face. He's the sort of party as has seen better days; 'ope as the umbrellas is safe."
Then he walked across the hall and entered his master's study.
The room, with its old oak and painted glass, and electric light, looked the perfection of comfort. The tall, white-headed man who sat crushed up in the big armchair was the envied of many.
"If you please, sir," said the servant.
"Yes; don't leave the door open. Who were you chatting to in the hall?"
"A man who has called, and wants to see you very particular, sir."
"I can't see him."
"He says his name is Brother Jerome."
"I can't see him. Go away, and shut the door."