Tallente, obeying an urgent telephone message, made his way to Claridge's and sent his card up to his wife.

Her maid came down and invited him to her suite, an invitation which he promptly declined.

In about a quarter of an hour she descended to the lounge, dressed for the street.

She showed no signs of confusion or nervousness at his visit.
She was hard and cold and fair, with a fraudulent smile upon her lips, dressed to perfection, her maid hovering in the background with a Pekinese under one arm and a jewel case in her other hand.
"Thank goodness," she said, as she fluttered into a chair by his side, "that you hate scenes even more than I do! You have the air of a man who has found out no end of disagreeable things!" "You are observant," he answered drily.

"I have just come from the Prime Minister." "Well ?" "I find that Palliser has been conducting a regular conspiracy behind my back, with reference to this wretched peerage.