The other laughed easily. "Don't you worry, Fairfield. You're the only person I've shown it to, and I'm not afraid you'll sandbag me." He changed the subject abruptly. "By the way, I've got an engagement I want to keep. Do you mind answering the telephone if I'm rung up by any one? Say I'm here, but I'm frightfully busy clearing up some business matters, will you?" The baronet frowned half in perplexity, half in protest. "Why--forgive me, Bob--why not say that you are gone out to keep an appointment?" Grell was plainly a little embarrassed, but he strove to disguise the fact. "Oh, it's only a fancy of mine," he retorted lightly. "I shan't be gone long. You'll do it, won't you?" "Of course," agreed Sir Ralph, still frowning. "That's all right, then. Thanks. I'll be back in half an hour." He strode away with an abrupt nod. Shortly afterwards Fairfield heard a taxicab scurry away down the sodden street. He leaned back in his chair and puffed a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling. There was a dim uneasiness in his mind, though he could have given no reason for it. He picked up an evening paper and threw it aside. Then he strolled up into the cardroom and tried to interest himself in watching a game of bridge. But the play only bored him. Time hung heavily on his hands. A servant spoke to him. Instantly he rose and made his way to the telephone. A call had been made for Grell. "Hello! Is that you, dear? This is Eileen speaking.... I can't hear. What do you say?" It was the clear, musical voice of the girl Robert Grell was to marry. Fairfield wondered if his friend had expected this. "This is not Mr. Grell," he said. "This is Fairfield--Sir Ralph Fairfield--speaking." "Oh!" He could detect the disappointment in her voice. "Is he there? I am Lady Eileen Meredith." Fairfield mentally cursed the false position in which he found himself. He was usually a ready-witted man, but now he found himself stammering almost incoherently. "Yes--no--yes. He is here, Lady Eileen, but he has a guest whom it is impossible for him to leave. It's a matter of settling up an important diplomatic question, I believe. Can I give him any message?" "No, thank you, Sir Ralph." The voice had become cold and dignified. He could picture her chagrin, and again anathematised Grell in his thoughts. "Has he been there long? When do you think he will be free?" "I can't say, I'm sure. He met me here for dinner at seven and has been here since." He hung up the receiver viciously. He had not expected to have to lie to Grell's _fiancée_ when he had promised not to disclose his friend's absence from the club. It was too bad of Grell. His eye met the clock, and with a start he realised that it was a few minutes to eleven o'clock. Grell had been gone an hour and a half.