Tony paused to light a cigarette, and then seated himself on the bed. "It was like this," he began. "Bugg and I were coming down Long Acre after the fight, when we saw Isabel being—being—what's the word—'accosted' by a couple of gentlemen who looked like dressed-up organ-grinders. As an Englishman and a baronet I thought it was my duty to interfere.
"You would," said Guy with conviction.
"Leaving Bugg to knock down the two gentlemen," proceeded Tony tranquilly, "I took Isabel to supper at Verrier's. We had a very good supper. There was——"
"Never mind about the supper," interrupted Guy. "How did she come to be having breakfast with you this morning?"
"What a dreadfully direct mind you have," complained Tony. "There is no pleasure in telling you a story." He paused. "The fact was," he added, "that Isabel had nowhere to sleep, so I brought her back to Mrs. Spalding's."
"You what?" demanded Guy.
"I brought her back to Mrs. Spalding's. I couldn't very well bring her here: I knew it would shock you. That's the worst of having a thoughtful nature like mine."
"I say, is all this true?" asked Guy.
"Of course it is," said Tony. "Perfectly true. I couldn't invent anything half so interesting."
"You mean to say that you picked up a girl in Long Acre, and that you've actually brought her back and—and established her at the Spaldings'!"