I hope they will not consider my cheque as a sign of weakness.
But after all," he added, with a smile, "what does it matter?
Let us go in to luncheon, Brooks." Brooks glanced down at his mud-splashed clothes and boots.
"I must really ask you to excuse me," he began, but Arranmore only rang the bell.
"My valet will smarten you up," he said.

"Here, Fritz, take Mr.Brooks into my room and look after him, will you.

I shall be in the hall when you come down." As he passed from the dressing-room a few minutes later, Brooks paused for a moment to look up at the wonderful ceiling above the hall.

Below, Lord Arranmore was idly knocking about the billiard balls, and all around him was the murmur of pleasant conversation.

Brooks drew the envelope from his pocket and glanced at the cheque.