THE CONFIDENCE OF LORD ARRANMORE The servants had left the room, and the doors were fast closed.

Lord Arranmore sat a little forward in his high-backed chair, one hand grasping the arm, the other stretched flat upon the table before him.
By his side, neglected, was a cedar-wood box of his favourite cigarettes.
"I am going," he said, thoughtfully, "to tell you a story, of whom the hero is--myself.

A poor sort of entertainment perhaps, but then there is a little tragedy and a little comedy in what I have to tell.

And you three are the three people in the world to whom certain things were better told." They bent forward, fascinated by the cold directness of his speech, by the suggestion of strange things to come.

The mask of their late gaiety had fallen away.