"I hope you remonstrated," I said gently.
Billy smiled. "Old Maxwell knows my opinion of him—if that's any comfort. Anyhow, I got back to London feeling a bit sick and wishing I'd fixed up with you, and there was your blessed note sitting in the glass. I jumped into a cab and came round here at once. The girl who let me in said you were at some party or something, and that I was to wait and sleep here. Well, I waited till a quarter to twelve, and then I rang for her and asked her whether you were making a night of it. She said she didn't know, and she looked so infernally sleepy that I told her she'd better go to bed, and that I'd sit up for you. She hummed and hawed a bit, and said she had something important to tell you. 'Well, whatever it is,' I said 'it will keep till the morning'; and finally she went off and left me here with the brandy. I stuck it till about one o'clock—then I got rather fed up and went down to the front door for a breath of air. I'd only been there about two minutes when I suddenly saw a kind of dog-fight going on, and, knowing your warlike nature, I guessed it was probably you. So I jogged along to see what was up, and—and here we are."
"And here we are, Billy," I echoed, "and here's your very good health."
We drank to each other in silence, and then Billy put down his glass.
"And now," he said, "perhaps you'll be kind enough to explain. Last time I saw you, you were broke to the wide, and just setting off to the States. Now I find you living in Park Lane like a giddy millionaire, and calling yourself Stuart Northcote. What's it mean, you old ruffian?"
I finished my brandy-and-soda and settled myself comfortably back amongst the cushions. "I will tell you what it means," I said; "but you're not to interrupt me till I've done."
Then slowly, carefully, and, I think, without leaving out any important detail, I described to him everything which had taken place since we parted in Leicester Square. Billy sat and listened in silence, his head resting on his hand and his eyes fixed on mine. It was not until I had finished that he ventured on his one embracive criticism.
"Well, I'm hanged," he remarked.
He rose from his chair, and with his hands in his pockets paced two or three times up and down the room. Finally he broke into a long, low, delighted chuckle.
"Lord!" he said; "it's colossal!"