Naturally it all came out then. Perhaps because I don’t know. ‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. ” The young man accepted the letter and the message, and seemed about to close the door when a lady issued from one of the front rooms and intervened. On Monday Charvill had still not returned, and the major duly presented himself at Mrs Chalkney’s house in Grosvenor Square, thanking his stars that his friend Roding would not be there to spoil sport. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms.
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