Raymond did so, and explained with fluency and clarity the thousand subtle intricacies with which the part abounded.
Eliphalet Cardomay nodded gravely.
“Sir Owen Frazer is a very clever man,” he remarked.
On his way back he returned the part, with a polite refusal to sup. In a postscript he added:
“I am returning to the provinces for good. One should never destroy an illusion. You have had your laugh. It was generous of you to wish to share it with the masses.”
Eliphalet Cardomay stepped from his first-class compartment to the platform. Potter, his dresser, having descended from the train while it was still in motion, respectfully held open the carriage door lest his august master should soil his beautiful wash-leather gloves.
Dear me! this sounds strangely familiar. Why, of course! That’s the worst of starting a story at the wrong end.
CHAPTER II
PISTOLS FOR TWO
Let us avoid repetition, and return to Eliphalet Cardomay where we left him at the dining-table, to march backwards to a past episode.