"Otherwise, I should think," was the prompt retort. "You are too British to change our politics, but thank goodness infidelity is one of the cosmopolitan virtues. You were never the man to marry a plaster-cast type of wife, Andrew, for all her millions. I could have done better for you than that. What's this they are telling me about Tony Palliser?" Tallente stiffened a little. "A good many people seem to be talking about Tony Palliser," he observed. "You shouldn't have let your wife make such an idiot of herself with him--lunching and dining and theatring all the time. And now they say he has disappeared. Poor little man! What have you done to him, Andrew?" Tallente sighed. "I can see that I shall have to take you into my confidence," he murmured. "You needn't tell me a single word, because I shouldn't believe you if you did. Are you staying here with your wife?" "No," Tallente answered. "I am back at my old rooms in Charges Street." The old lady patted him on the arm and dismissed him. "You see, I've found out all I wanted to know!" she chuckled. CHAPTER XII Dartrey had been called unexpectedly to the north, to a great Labour conference, and Tallente, waiting for his return, promised within the next forty-eight hours, found himself rather at a loose end. He avoided the club, where he would have been likely to meet his late political associates, and spent the morning after his visit to the Prime Minister strolling around the Park, paying visits to his tailor and hosier, and lunched by himself a little sadly in a fashionable restaurant. At five o'clock he found his way to Westminster and discovered Nora Miall's flat. A busy young person in pince-nez and a long overall, who announced herself as Miss Miall's secretary, was in the act of showing out James Miller as he rang the bell. "Any news?" the latter asked, after Tallente had found it impossible to avoid shaking hands. "I am waiting for Mr. Dartrey's return. No, there is no particular news that I know of." "Dartrey's had to go north for a few days," Miller confided officiously. "I ought to have gone too, but some one had to stay and look after things in the House. Rather a nuisance his being called away just now." Tallente preserved a noncommittal silence. Miller rolled a cigarette hastily, took up his unwrapped umbrella and an ill-brushed bowler hat. "Well, I must be going," he concluded. "If there is anything I can do for you during the chief's absence, look me up, Mr. Tallente. It's all the same, you know--Dartrey or me--Demos House in Parliament Street, or the House. You haven't forgotten your way there yet, I expect?" With which parting shaft Mr. James Miller departed, and the secretary, Opening the door of Nora's sitting room, ushered Tallente in. "Mr. Tallente," she announced, with a subdued smile, "fresh from a most engaging but rather one-sided conversation with Mr. Miller."