"The gentleman wishes to have a word with you, sir."
"Half a second," said Barraclough. "I'll slip out through the bedroom.
There's a second door into the hall. Righto, Doran."
He disappeared, closing the door after him.
"The gentleman, sir," Doran announced.
Richard Frencham Altar came into the room. The privations of the preceding three days had paled him a trifle. His eyes glittered brightly and there was a hint of nervousness in the tenseness of his lower lip.
Doran went out. Richard closed the door and turned to face the company. Mr. Torrington leaned forward and as though by accident twitched down the table lamp shade that the light might be thrown on the newcomer's face. Lord Almont gasped and even Cassis was startled by the phenomenal likeness. Mr. Torrington nodded approval.
Richard's eyes went quickly from one to another. Then his hand moved to his throat and covered the empty space where his tie should have been. No one spoke and under the battery of glances his muscles tightened resentfully and his head jerked slightly to one side.
"Anything so very peculiar about my appearance?" he demanded.
Mr. Torrington was first to recover his composure and he rose with difficulty.
"You justly reproach our manners, Mr.—er——"