Jones had expected a scene, outcries, questions, but there was something in all this that was quite beyond him. They had asked no questions, seemed to take the whole thing for granted, Venetia especially. The Duke of Melford shut the door. "Your mother--I mean Lady Rochester's heart is not strong," said he, going to the bell and touching it. "I must send for the doctor to see her." Jones, more than ever astonished by the coolness of the other, sat down again. "Look here," said he, "I can't make you all out--you've called me no names--you haven't let me fully explain, the old lady is the only one that seems to have taken the news in. Can't you understand what I have told you?" "Perfectly," said the old gentleman, "and it's the most extraordinary thing I have ever heard--and the most interesting--I want to have a long talk about it.--James," to the servant who had answered the bell, "telephone for Dr. Cavendish. Her ladyship has had another attack." "Dr. Cavendish has just been telephoned for, your grace, and Dr. Simms." "That will do," said his grace. "Yes, 'pon my soul, it's quite extraordinary," he took a cigar case from his pocket, proffered a cigar which Jones took, and then lit one himself. "Look here," said Jones suddenly alarmed by a new idea, "you aren't guying me, are you?--you haven't taken it into your heads that I've gone dotty--mad?" "Mad!" cried the old gentleman with a start. "Never--such an idea never entered my mind. Why--why should it?" "Only you take this thing so quietly." "Quietly--well, what would you have? My dear fellow, what is the good of shouting--ever? Not a bit. It's bad form. I take everything as it comes." "Well, then, listen whilst I tell you how all this happened. I came over here some time ago to rope in a contract with the British Government over some steel fixtures. I was partner with a man named Aaron Stringer. Well, I failed on the contract and found myself broke with less than ten pounds in my pocket. I was sitting in the Savoy lounge when in came a man whom I knew at once by sight, but I couldn't place his name on him. We had drinks together in the American bar, then we went upstairs to the lounge. He would not tell me who he was. 'Look in the looking-glass behind you,' said he, 'and you will see who I am.' I looked and I saw him. I was his twin image. I must tell you first that I had been having some champagne cocktails and a whisky and soda. I'm not used to drink. We had a jamboree together and dinner at some place, and then he sent me home as himself--I was blind. "When I woke up next morning I said nothing but lay low, thinking it was all a joke. I ought to have spoken at once, but didn't, one makes mistakes in life--" "We all do that," said the other; "yes--go on."