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 the telephone his intentions. He had neglected to do this, so Mrs. Clutterbuck decided, upon her own responsibility, to dine alone. She gave the necessary orders, and in due course the meal was served and discussed. After the things had been removed (she had taken her dinner in the boudoir) she lighted a cigarette. It was not a habit which met with her husband's encouragement, but as he was not there to upbraid her she saw no reason why she should not indulge her taste for the fumes of nicotine. A little later the door was thrown open, and the colonel entered. He was pale, and his features worked. Evidently, he was in a violent passion.

"You are quite a stranger," she said, with a little laugh, "and I have dined without you. I did not feel your loss, because the suprême de volatille was excellent. You see I am smoking. Take one?"

He deliberately seized the proffered cigarette case, and threw it with all his force against the wall. She shrugged her shoulders and laughed again. "What a child you are! You remind me of Ronny, and yet you are no relative of his."

"Are you a relative of his?" asked the colonel slowly, weighing every word as if he were afraid to trust his voice.

"Why, yes. Did I not tell you that he was my nephew?"

"And did you not tell me a lie?"