Jimmy Dumble possessed a very red face and an extraordinary capacity for silence.

He stood a yard or two inside the room, twirling his hat in his hand.

Sir Henry, after the closing of the door, did not for a moment address his visitor.

There was a subtle but unmistakable change in his appearance as he stood with his hands in his pockets, and a frown on his forehead, whistling softly to himself, his eyes fixed upon the door through which his wife had vanished.

He swung round at last towards the telephone.
"Stand by for a moment, Jimmy, will you ?" he directed.
"Aye, aye, sir!" Sir Henry took up the receiver.