"Mrs. Ewing has gone to bed?"
"Yes, went directly after you left."
Doctor Gordon's face grew darker. He had tossed his coat over a chair, and stood staring absently at the table with its prismatic lights.
"I know where he is," he said presently in a whisper.
"You mean?"
"Yes," said Doctor Gordon impatiently. "You know whom I mean. I saw him go in—well, no matter where."
"I suspect that he has been hanging about here," said James.
"What makes you think so?"
"The dog barked and acted queer."
"Dogs always did hate him," said Doctor Gordon, with a queer expression. Then he gave himself a shake. Here he said: "Let's have something hot and a smoke." He called to Emma to bring some hot water and sugar and lemons and glasses. Then he produced a bottle from a cabinet in the office, and himself brewed a sort of punch, the like of which James had never tasted before.