"Exactly. That's what I want. You're a dear," replied the man, and the widow left to prepare it.
A few minutes later she returned with a small glass on a silver tray. He took it, and swallowed the contents at two gulps.
"By Jove! Excellent. Johnnie at the Ritz couldn't make a better, Ena. But you were always famed for your corpse-revivers!"
"Glad you like it. Now get away at once, or you'll have no time."
"Mind the glass!" he said in a serious voice.
"I'll see after it all right, never fear. You do your work and I do mine—eh? Now get away, and don't arrive before a quarter to eight or so."
"Yours to obey, Ena," was his response, and he at once slipped out by the servants' entrance into the mews, and, hailing a taxi a few minutes later, drove to Pont Street.
On arrival he at once met his wife, who was anxiously awaiting him in the drawing-room.
"All right, Lilla! Don't worry. Things all go well," he assured her. "I've seen Ena, and we shall have a very delightful dinner. We go to the new revue at the Hippodrome afterwards, and then on to Giro's for supper—a very delightful evening."
"And then——?" asked his wife, looking him straight in the face.