"If it's all the same to you, sir, it'd be better if you'd kindly talk with the boss."
"About what?"
"Well, sir," the waiter stammered—"I don't want to alarm the lady—something's happened."
Lanyard looked to Eve with lifting brows. "If you will excuse me—"
"I don't think I will," Eve cheerfully replied, rising. "And I don't in the least mind being alarmed. I'm coming along."
With a formal bow of consent, Lanyard folded the wrap round her shoulders, then threw his coat over his arm and prepared to follow the waiter. But the latter was just then peremptorily hailed by the host of the remaining party with a demand for "the check"; so Lanyard and Eve proceeded to the little office unescorted, to find awaiting them a person of decent manners with an intelligent if at the moment somewhat harassed eye. There had been, he began, an unfortunate accident, he was more sorry than he could say that it had occurred in his establishment . . .
"What sort of an accident?" Lanyard with a touch of asperity cut his apologies short.
"If you and your lady don't mind stepping this way, I'll show you . . ."
Ushered out to the night, they were conducted round the corner of the building to the space where, in the chilly glimmer of a belated moon, the brougham stood parked with one other motor-car, and, near the former, two men were stooping over something that rested motionless upon the packed earth, one of them focussing upon it the beam of an electric torch.
Lanyard touched Eve's arm, recommending her to wait aside, and with the manager joined the group round the supine body of Eve's chauffeur.