"Good night, Mrs. Adaile," he said.
When he was alone he sat down again, and waited for her return; her manoeuvre might fail, someone return with her—the bracelet must be lying where she had "dropped" it.
More than five minutes crept by before a step sounded. He turned eagerly, and with dismay beheld Lord Armoury approaching. The intruder gaped at the view, and stood hesitating, with his hands in his pockets. It was an instant of the keenest suspense. Would he withdraw? No, he lounged forward. He threw himself into the very chair, and stretched his legs across another.
Conrad muttered an anathema on him.
"Eh?" said Lord Armoury.
"I didn't speak," said Conrad frigidly.
The young man took out a cigarette, and opened his match-box. It was empty.
"Got a light?" he inquired.
"I'm sorry I haven't," said Conrad, momentarily encouraged.
"Rotten show!" said the Earl; "where's a waiter?" He contemplated his cigarette with a semi-intoxicated frown, and transferred his feet to the table. It was apparent that he meant to stop although he could not smoke. With his change of position he was liable to come in contact with the bracelet, and Conrad watched him nervously, but he did not seem to be discommoded by it.