“He must be feeling better,” murmured Crofts. Yet somehow I distrusted that his Lordship had suffered even a little twinge.
Now Blenkinson withdrew discreetly as a Dean, after examining each dish on the tray and giving every cover an approving caress.
“May I ask a question?”
“Blaze away.”
“Aren’t things a little out of order here, to-night? Or are there no ladies present?”
“There are ladies, plenty of ’em. But what do you mean?”
“Why are the men prowling around the House? Where are the ladies? Don’t they customarily leave the men at the board?”
“Oh, yes, usually.” There was a light in his eyes that caused me to expect something quite illogical and characteristic. “But here it’s the other way round.”
“What?”
“Here the men leave the table to the ladies. It’s the local custom.”