«Work here for another two hours, my lord. Can't do with less than thirty minutes' exposure. The current's none too strong.»

«You see how I'm bullied by my own man, Parker? Well, I must bear it, I suppose. Ta-ta!»

He whistled his way downstairs.

The conscientious Mr. Parker, with a groan, settled down to a systematic search through Sir Reuben Levy's papers, with the assistance of a plate of ham sandwiches and a bottle of Bass.

Lord Peter and the Honourable Freddy Arbuthnot, looking together like an advertisement for gents' trouserings, strolled into the dining-room at Wyndham's.

«Haven't seen you for an age,» said the Honourable Freddy, «what have you been doin' with yourself?»

«Oh, foolin' about,» said Lord Peter, languidly.

«Thick or clear, sir?» enquired the waiter of the Honourable Freddy.

«Which'll you have, Wimsey?» said that gentleman, transferring the burden of selection to his guest, «they're both equally poisonous.»

«Well, clear's less trouble to lick out of the spoon,» said Lord Peter.