CHAPTER XIII
About five o'clock on the afternoon of the day following Esmond's confession, Guy Spencer rang the bell at Mrs. L'Estrange's flat in Elsinore Gardens.
The decorous-looking butler opened the door. He seemed to wear a sad and chastened demeanour, as if overborne with the tragic events of the previous night. Of course, all servants know what is going on in the house of their employers. A scandal such as this must have quickly penetrated to them.
"Is Mrs. L'Estrange at home?"
The sad-faced butler answered at once; he could tell a lie with as much grace as anybody, but here there was no need to lie.
"Mrs. L'Estrange is at home, sir, in a manner of speaking, but she is very ill, as a matter of fact in bed. Of course she cannot see any visitors."
"Oh, I quite understand," said Spencer hastily. "Is Miss Keane in? If so, I would like to see her for a few moments."
The melancholy man in black opened the door a few inches. "Miss Keane is in, sir, but I am afraid she is not very well, either. Will you kindly step in, sir, and I will find out if she can see you?"
It was evident that Tommy Esmond and his equally nefarious partner had cast a gloom over the whole establishment. Spencer was ushered into the pretty drawing-room. In a few moments, Stella Keane came in. She was evidently under the stress of great emotion. There were dark shadows round the eyes, as if she had passed a sleepless night. Even her perfect mouth had a listless droop.