“You put her there just now yourself.”
“Bosh!” Galorey exclaimed impatiently, “I spoke of her as being the limit, the last thing on the line.”
“No,” corrected the other, “you put the Duchess of Breakwater as the limit.”
Galorey smiled frankly. “You are right, my dear chap,” he accepted, “and I stand by it.”
A page boy knocked at the door and came in holding out on a salver a card for Mr. Ruggles, and at the interruption Galorey rose and invited Ruggles to go out with him that night to Osdene. “Lady Galorey will be delighted.”
But Ruggles shook his head. “The boy is coming back here to-night,” and Galorey laughed.
“Don’t you believe it! You don’t know how deep in he is. You don’t know the Duchess of Breakwater. Once he is with her—”
At the same time that the page boy handed Mr. Ruggles the card of the caller, he gave him as well a small envelope, which contained box tickets for the Gaiety. Ruggles examined it.
“I have got some writing to do,” he told Galorey, “and I’m going to see a show to-night, and I think I’ll just stay here and watch my hole.”
As soon as Galorey had left the Carlton, Mr. Ruggles despatched his letters and his visitor, made a very careful toilet, and after waiting until past eight o’clock for Dan to return to dinner, dined alone on roast beef and a tart, and with perfect digestion, if somewhat thoughtful mind, left the hotel and walked down the dim street to the brilliant Strand, and on foot to the Gaiety.