Captain Fanshawe bent forward quickly, holding his stick between his knees. The side of his neck had flushed a dull red colour. For several moments he did not speak. Claire had a curious feeling that he could not trust his voice.
“Good!” he said shortly at last. “Now may I hear?”
“I should like very much to ask you some questions about—about a man whom I think you may know.”
The grey eyes came back to her face, keen and surprised.
“Yes! Who is he?”
“A Major Carew. His Christian name is Frank. He belongs to your Club.”
“I know the fellow. Yes! What do you want to know about him?”
“Everything, I think; everything you can tell me!”
“You know him personally, then? You’ve met him somewhere?”
“Yes,” Claire answered to the last question, “and I’m anxious—I’m interested to know more. Do you know his people, or anything about him?”