As the door closed behind her Potter walked over and picked up the silver pencil. He was still examining it when Duncan entered the room.
“Where’s Janet?” he demanded.
“Gone into the drawing-room,” Potter slipped the silver pencil inside his white waistcoat pocket. “Whom do the initials ‘J. C. C.’ stand for?”
“‘J. C. C.’,” echoed Duncan reflectively. “Let me see. Oh, I guess J. Calhoun-Cooper.”
“A friend of yours?”
“An acquaintance,” shortly. “His sister was at Madame Yvonett’s this afternoon.”
“Oh!” Potter’s fingers sought the lobe of his right ear. “I believe you said they were dining here tonight.”
“Yes. I asked Janet to recall their invitations, but she refused to do so.”
“Quite right; unless you wish to declare war on them.”
“I’m willing to do it,” Duncan scowled savagely. “The way Pauline dared to address Madame Yvonett made my blood boil. Janet promised to see that I did not sit next to her. Joe, Pauline’s brother, made a mistake in the dinner hour and arrived here some time ago; he sent word to me by Henderson not to hurry, he’d wait in the billiard-room. The poor fool must be tired of knocking the balls about by himself.”