“That’s that,” said Mr. Fortune. “I’ll speak to Lady Chantry.”
Lady Chantry was at home. She sat in her austerely pleasant drawing-room, toasting a foot at the fire, a small foot which brought out a pretty leg. Of course she was in black with some white about her neck, but the loose gown had grace. She smiled at him and tossed back her hair. Not a thread of white showed in its crisp brown and it occurred to Reggie that he had never seen a woman of her age carry off bobbed hair so well. What was her age? Her eyes were as bright as a bird’s and her clear pallor was unfurrowed.
They spoke together. She got the lead then. “It was kind of her to let you know at once. But she’s always kind, isn’t she? I did so want you to come, and make friends with me before you’re married, and it will be very soon now, won’t it? Oh, but do let me give you some tea.”
“Won’t you? Well, please ring the bell. I don’t know how men can exist without tea. But most of them don’t now, do they? You’re almost unique, you know. I suppose it’s the penalty of greatness.”
“I came round to say that Miss Amber won’t be able to dine with you, Lady Chantry.”
It was a moment before she answered. “But that is too bad. She told me she was sure you could find a day.”
“The man has spoken,” she laughed. “Oh, of course, she mustn’t go behind that.” He was given a keen mocking glance. “And can’t you come either, Mr. Fortune?”
“I have a great deal of work. Lady Chantry. It’s come rather unexpectedly.”
“Indeed, you do look worried. I’m so sorry. I’m sure you ought to take a rest, a long rest.” A servant came in. “Won’t you really have some tea?”
He went home and rang up Lomas. Lomas, like the father of Baby Bunting, had gone a-hunting. Lomas was in Leicestershire. Superintendent Bell replied: Did Bell know if they had anything new about the unknown murderer?
“Inquiries are proceeding, sir,” said Superintendent Bell.
“Damn it, Bell, I’m not the House of Commons. Have you got anything?”
“You’ll say that on the Day of Judgment,” said Reggie.
It was on the next day that he found a telegram waiting for him when he came home to dress for dinner:
Gerald ill again very anxious beg you will come sending car to meet evening trains.
He scrambled into the last carriage of the half-past six as it drew out of Waterloo.