He merely let it, when he married—let it to a stockbroker. Peter, Jack must have had some sort of a premonition—— ELPHICK. Some sort of what? SHAFTO. Premonition—— ELPHICK. Stoopid ass of a word. SHAFTO. Some sort of a premonition of his speedy return to single life. [_Looking out of the window._] Same spotless white gate, I rejoice to see; same elms; same laurels—[_Ascending the steps._] The library——! [_Entering the room._] My heart sinks within me. [_From within._] No, by Jove! Peter! Peter! [ELPHICK _goes and looks into the room through the balustrade_. ELPHICK. What’s wrong? SHAFTO. [_From within._] Nothing. I breathe again. All the essential features of Jack’s library are undisturbed. [_Coming down the steps._] A luxurious sofa, Ruff’s Turf Guide, and the Stud Book. ELPHICK. [_Drearily._] Blessed if there’s anything to make fun of in that. SHAFTO. [_At a table, examining bottles._] Delightful! Same soda water, same—— ELPHICK. [_Sitting, nursing his banjo_.] No, hang it! SHAFTO. [_Pouring out a glass of Vermouth._] Vermouth. Peter, I was totting up things this morning, gently and quietly, in my bath. ELPHICK. [_Blowing a speck of dust from his banjo._] Not really? SHAFTO. [_Seriously._] Yes. You weren’t at Jack’s weddin’? ELPHICK. No, I was up at Mahabaleshwar that spring with Sandington. You stood best man, didn’t you? SHAFTO. I did. And look here—Jack Allingham is the seventh I’ve been best man to in nine years. ELPHICK. [_Abstractedly._] Good figgers. SHAFTO. [_Frowning._] And they’ve all managed to get into the Divorce Court since, one way or another. [_After a pause._] How’s that? ELPHICK. Good figgers. JOHN ALLINGHAM _enters, a simple, boyish man, of about thirty, looking pale and worn. He is dressed for dinner._ JOHN. [_Shaking hands with_ SHAFTO.] Halloa, Denzil! [_To_ ELPHICK, _shaking hands with him_.] Well, Peter! It’s awfully good of you fellows proposing to see me through this evening. ELPHICK. Not in the least. SHAFTO. Speak for yourself, Peter. JOHN. I couldn’t have endured my own company to-night, I can tell you. Sorry you can’t sleep here, though. SHAFTO. My governor hasn’t seen Peter since he’s been home this leave. It’s an old promise——