In the meantime the doctor had taken a chair before the fire, and proceeded to light his pipe. It struck me suddenly that, so far from being, as I had believed, mere hotel acquaintances, these two were great friends.
This surprised me. The doctor had told me that he had made a formal call in response to a letter, but as we sat there it was plain they were on terms of close intimacy.
“I’ve had the agent round this morning about that house in Hampstead I told you about,” Humphreys said. “Ruthen is seeing after it for me. I fancy I can get it a bit cheaper than they want. As I’ll be in London for quite a year now, I prefer a house to hotel life.”
Mention of the name of Ruthen caused me to prick up my ears. I had no idea that the young man who so constantly pestered Thelma with his questions was acquainted with Humphreys.
“Yes,” agreed the doctor. “I think you will be better off in a house than in hotels. I always find the latter very wearisome and restless.”
“It’s quite a nice place,” Humphreys remarked. “A bit big perhaps, but I shall often have some relatives staying with me. Ruthen is quite of my opinion that it would just suit me.”
“So he told me yesterday,” said the doctor. “I met him at lunch with Andrews.”
Here was another surprise. I learned that three men whom I had believed to be practically strangers to each other were on terms of intimate friendship.
I remained for about an hour and then left the pair together. Old Humphreys begged me to call upon him again.
Two days later he rang me up at the office and asked me to dine with him. I accepted and we had dinner together in the Savoy restaurant, and afterwards watched the dancing in the room below. The old fellow, always a pleasant companion, had certainly become rejuvenated since the winter at Mürren.