With a sad shake of the head, Lord Caterham rose and carved himself a plate of ham. “Codders has certainly done it this time,” observed Bundle cheerfully. “He was almost incoherent over the telephone. He’ll be here in a minute or two, spluttering nineteen to the dozen about discretion and hushing it up.” Lord Caterham groaned at the prospect. “Was he up?” he asked. “He told me,” replied Bundle, “that he had been up and dictating letters and memoranda ever since seven o’clock.” “Proud of it, too,” remarked her father. “Extraordinarily selfish, these public men. They make their wretched secretaries get up at the most unearthly hours in order to dictate rubbish to them. If a law was passed compelling them to stop in bed until eleven, what a benefit it would be to the nation! I wouldn’t mind so much if they didn’t talk such balderdash. Lomax is always talking to me of my ‘position.’ As if I had any. Who wants to be a peer nowadays?” “Nobody,” said Bundle. “They’d much rather keep a prosperous public house.” Tredwell reappeared silently with two poached eggs in a little silver dish which he placed on the table in front of Lord Caterham. “What’s that, Tredwell?” said the latter, looking at them with faint distaste. “Poached eggs, my lord.” “I hate poached eggs,” said Lord Caterham peevishly. “They’re so insipid. I don’t like to look at them even. Take them away, will you, Tredwell?” “Very good, my lord.” Tredwell and the poached eggs withdrew as silently as they came. “Thank God no one gets up early in this house,” remarked Lord Caterham devoutly. “We shall have to break this to them when they do, I suppose.” He sighed. “I wonder who murdered him,” said Bundle. “And why?” “That’s not our business, thank goodness,” said Lord Caterham. “That’s for the police to find out. Not that Badgworthy will ever find out anything. On the whole I rather hope it was Nosystein.” “Meaning——” “The All British Syndicate.” “Why should Mr. Isaacstein murder him when he’d come down here on purpose to meet him?” “High finance,” said Lord Caterham vaguely. “And that reminds me, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if Isaacstein wasn’t an early riser. He may blow in upon us at any minute. It’s a habit in the city. I believe that, however rich you are, you always catch the 9.17.” The sound of a motor being driven at great speed was heard through the open window. “Codders,” cried Bundle. Father and daughter leaned out of the window and hailed the occupant of the car as it drew up before the entrance. “In here, my dear fellow, in here,” cried Lord Caterham, hastily swallowing his mouthful of ham. George had no intention of climbing in through the window. He disappeared through the front door, and reappeared ushered in by Tredwell, who withdrew at once. “Have some breakfast,” said Lord Caterham, shaking him by the hand. “What about a kidney?” George waved the kidney aside impatiently. “This is a terrible calamity, terrible, terrible.”