The other waited sullenly.
"What you up to?" George asked.
"Thought I'd explore downstairs for a book. Couldn't sleep. Nothing in my room worth bothering with."
George smiled, the memory of Blodgett's admirable behaviour crowding his mind. What better time than now to let his anger dictate to him, as it had done that day in his office?
"Come in for a minute," he proposed to Dalrymple, and opened his door.
Dalrymple shook his head, but George took his arm and led him, guessing that Dalrymple feared the subject of the notes.
"Bad humour!" George said. "You seem to be the only one up. I don't mind chatting with you before turning in. Fact is, these wedding parties are stupid, don't you think?"
Possibly George's manner was reassuring to Dalrymple. At any rate, he yielded. George took off his coat, sat in an easy chair, and pressed the call button.
"What's that for?" Dalrymple asked, uneasily.
"Sit down," George said. "Stupid and dry, these things! I'm going to try to raise a servant. I want to gossip over a drink before I go to bed. You'll join me?"