“Of course I know Lord Tilbury.”
“Well, he’s in there,” said Willoughby Braddock, jerking an awed thumb toward the drawing-room, “and he hasn’t got any trousers on.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SAM HEARS BAD NEWS
SAM uttered a cry of exceeding bitterness. Nothing is more galling to your strategist than to find that some small, unforeseen accident has occurred and undone all his schemes. The one thing for which he had omitted to allow was the possibility of some trousered caller wandering in during his absence and supplying Mr. Molloy with the means of escape.
“So he’s gone, I suppose?” he said morosely.
“No, he’s still here,” said Mr. Braddock. “In the drawing-room.”
“The man, I mean.”
“What man?”
“The other man.”
“What other man?” asked Mr. Braddock, whose exacting afternoon had begun to sap his mental powers.