'I see it,' he wheezed. 'You're having a joke with me! So this is
what you were hatching as I came downstairs! Don't tell me! If you
had really thrown him over, you wouldn't have been laughing together
like that. It's no good, my dear. I might have been taken in, if I
had not seen you, but I did.'
'No, no,' cried Molly. 'You're wrong. You're quite wrong. When you
saw us, we were just agreeing that we should be very good friends.
That was all. I broke off the engagement before that. I--'
She was aware that his lordship had emitted a hollow croak, but she
took it as his method of endorsing her statement, not as a warning.
'I wrote Lord Dreever a note this evening,' she went on, 'telling
him that I couldn't possibly--'
She broke off in alarm. With the beginning of her last speech, Sir
Thomas had begun to swell, until now he looked as if he were in
imminent danger of bursting. His face was purple. To Molly's lively
imagination, his eyes appeared to move slowly out of his head, like
a snail's. From the back of his throat came strange noises.
'S-s-so--' he stammered.
He gulped, and tried again.
'So this,' he said, 'so this--! So that was what was in that letter,
eh?'
Lord Dreever, a limp bundle against the banisters, smiled weakly.
'Eh?' yelled Sir Thomas.
His lordship started convulsively.
'Er, yes,' he said, 'yes, yes! That was it, don't you know!'
Sir Thomas eyed his nephew with a baleful stare. Molly looked from
one to the other in bewilderment.
There was a pause, during which Sir Thomas seemed partially to
recover command of himself. Doubts as to the propriety of a family
row in mid-stairs appeared to occur to him. He moved forward.
'Come with me,' he said, with awful curtness.
His lordship followed, bonelessly. Molly watched them go, and
wondered more than ever. There was something behind this. It was not
merely the breaking-off of the engagement that had roused Sir
Thomas. He was not a just man, but he was just enough to be able to
see that the blame was not Lord Dreever's. There had been something
more. She was puzzled.
In the hall, Saunders was standing, weapon in hand, about to beat
the gong.
'Not yet,' snapped Sir Thomas. 'Wait!'
Dinner had been ordered especially early that night because of the
theatricals. The necessity for strict punctuality had been straitly
enjoined upon Saunders. At some inconvenience, he had ensured strict
punctuality. And now--But we all have our cross to bear in this
world. Saunders bowed with dignified resignation.
Sir Thomas led the way into his study.
'Be so good as to close the door,' he said.
His lordship was so good.
Sir Thomas backed to the mantelpiece, and stood there in the
