He lay flat on his face for a couple of minutes, his broad back wriggling convulsively--a pathetic sight!--in the painful effort to get his breath back.

Then he sat up, and with perfect frankness burst into tears.

He sobbed and blubbered, like a small child that has hurt itself, for three or four minutes.

Then, having recovered his magnificent voice, he bellowed furiously: "Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!" Then he rose painfully to his feet, and stood staring at the open windows.
Presently he roared again: "Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!" He kept looking at the window with terrified eyes, as though he expected somebody to step in and cut his throat from ear to ear.
"Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!" he bellowed again.
The Duke came quietly into the hall, dressed in a heavy motor-coat, his motor-cap on his head, and carrying a kit-bag in his hand.
"Did I hear you call ?" he said.
"Call ?" said the millionaire.

"I shouted.