"I was just addressing to myself the same enquiry," said Mr. Ruby.
The Duke paused. He turned to the partners.
"What's that? The servant? Have you seen the man before? The plot is thickening. I am afraid 'the Duchess' is getting warm."
Apparently the Duke knew his way so well that he did not think it necessary to announce himself at the door of the room to which he led the partners. He simply turned the handle and went in, Messrs. Ruby and Golden close upon his heels. The room which he had entered was a pretty room, and contained a pretty occupant. A lady, young and fair, rose from a couch which was at the opposite side of the apartment, and, as was most justifiable under the circumstances, stared: "Hereward!"
"Mrs. Mansfield!"
"Whatever brings you here?"
"My dear Mrs. Mansfield, I have come to ask you what you think of Mr. Kesteeven's necklace."
"Hereward, what do you mean?"
The Duke's manner changed from jest to earnest.
"Rather, Gertrude, what do you mean? What have I done that deserved such a return from you? What have I done to you that you should have endeavoured to drag my wife's name in the mire?"