"Still, they do not take three hours to do the six miles," said Mr. Rodney, with a distinct approach to sarcasm.
Mrs. Verulam collapsed. There was no more fight left in her. She shut her eyes very tightly and tried not to breathe hard. When she opened them again Mr. Rodney was looking at the tweed suit in a very crafty manner.
"I have heard much of you, Mr. Van Adam," he said slowly.
"Indeed!"
"Yes. I have even had the pleasure of writing a little word about you."
The tweed suit started.
"May I ask where?"
Mr. Rodney laid his long white hand gently upon the World.
"Here."
The word dropped from him like a pebble. The tweed suit flushed scarlet, and its dark eyes darted a look of boyish fury upon the demure writer of paragraphs. But it only said, in a voice that slightly shook: