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 that is eccentric, even for you, Richard, who in yourself are a sort of mental jazz-band. Now for your story, I can bear it."

In a few words Beresford told of the "accidental" meeting with Lola Craven at the Imperial, and that he had accepted an invitation for Drewitt and himself to lunch on the morrow. He refrained from mentioning that Mr. Quelch would be present.

"Impossible, quite impossible. To-morrow I am lunching with—let me see, who is it? I know it's somebody uncomfortable, because I have been looking forward to it with dread."

"To-morrow you are lunching with us, Drew," said Beresford quietly.

"Since you put it so persuasively," he said drily, "I cannot of course refuse. Perhaps you will ring the bell once, that means that Hoskins' presence is required."

Beresford did so, and a moment later Hoskins entered.

"Hoskins," said Drewitt, "I am due to lunch with somebody or other to-morrow. It doesn't matter with whom. Just say that—that—well, just make my excuses in your usual inimitable manner."

Hoskins bowed and withdrew.

"Richard, you are keeping something from me." Drewitt reached for a cigarette and proceeded to light it.

"And you, with your customary discretion, will not press the matter," said Beresford with a smile.

"Perhaps you're right. When a man makes a