"The brute was
lunching with my wife at the Carlton to-day, and, as luck would
have it, I was landed with that Russian Admiral's wife and
sister-in-law. You're breaking up the happy home, that's what
you're doing, Rayton!"
His lordship at any rate seemed to find the process amusing. He
laughed until the tears stood in his eyes.
"I should love to have seen Philippa's face," he chuckled, "when
she walked into the restaurant and saw you there! You're supposed
to be off on a fishing expedition, aren't you?"
"I went out after whiting," Sir Henry groaned, "and I'd just promised
to chuck it for a time when I got the Admiral's message."
"Well, we'll see to your German spy, anyway," his visitor promised.
"Don't be an ass!" Sir Henry exclaimed irritably. "I don't want the
fellow touched at present. Why, he's been a sort of persona grata
at my house. Hangs around there all the time when I'm away."
"All the more reason for putting an end to his little game, I should
say," was the cheerful reply.
"And have the whole neighbourhood either laughing at my wife and
Miss Fairclough, or talking scandal about them!" Sir Henry retorted.
"I forgot that," his friend confessed ruminatively. "He's a
gentlemanly sort of fellow, from what I hear, but a rotten spy.
What do you want done with him?"
"Leave him for me to deal with," Sir Henry insisted.
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