“In my origin I am more to be compared with Denis Zachaire or with Raymond Lully. My ancestor, George Haddo, came to Scotland in the suite of Anne of Denmark, and when James I, her consort, ascended the English throne, he was granted the estates in Staffordshire which I still possess. My family has formed alliances with the most noble blood of England, and the Merestons, the Parnabys, the Hollingtons, have been proud to give their daughters to my house.”
“Those are facts which can be verified in works of reference,” said Arthur dryly.
“They can,” said Oliver.
“And the Eastern palaces in which your youth was spent, and the black slaves who waited on you, and the bearded sheikhs who imparted to you secret knowledge?” cried Dr Porhoët.
“I was educated at Eton, and I left Oxford in 1896.”
“Would you mind telling me at what college you were?” said Arthur.
“I was at the House.”
“Then you must have been there with Frank Hurrell.”
“Now assistant physician at St Luke’s Hospital. He was one of my most intimate friends.”
“I’ll write and ask him about you.”