A footman hurried out.

She turned to Dominey.
"You will not enter," she pleaded, "for a short time ?" "If you will permit me to pay you a visit, it will give me great pleasure," he answered formally.

"I will call, if I may, on my return from Norfolk." She gave him her hand with a sad smile.
"Let my people take you wherever you want to go," she invited, "and remember," she added, dropping her voice, "I do not admit defeat.

This is not the last word between us." She disappeared in some state, escorted through the great front door of one of London's few palaces by an attractive major-domo and footman in the livery of her House.

Dominey drove back to the Carlton, where in the lounge he found the band playing, crowds still sitting around, amongst whom Seaman was conspicuous, in his neat dinner clothes and with his cherubic air of inviting attention from prospective new acquaintances.
He greeted Dominey enthusiastically.
"Come," he exclaimed, "I am weary of solitude! I have seen scarcely a face that I recognise.