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112 "Well, that's news to me. I've never visited Muddlebury that I know of. However, gentlemen, step inside. Come in. We can't discuss the land question out here on the doorstep. Perkins, tell Ponderby to telephone Mr. Wilson. Ask him to jump into a cab and come here as quickly as he can."

"Yes, my lord."

Stranleigh did not take his uninvited guests into the small business room, for there were only two chairs in that apartment, but he led them to the large library on the ground-floor, a sombre but impressive place, lined as it was with richly-bound volumes of all sizes from floor to ceiling. The five men huddled together, as if for mutual protection, and kept tumbling over one another's feet. They were plainly abashed by the splendour of their surroundings. Stranleigh, in his most affable manner, endeavoured to put them at their ease. He waved away the liveried servant who had followed them in, and himself set out chairs for the coterie.

"Sit down, sit down," he cried cordially. "Mr. Wilson will be here in a few minutes." But this information did not seem to cheer them up at all. They drew long faces as they seated themselves gingerly on the extreme forward edge of the leather-covered chairs, stamped on the back with the Stranleigh coat of arms.

"You've had a long journey this morning?"