I'm sure I'm doing the right thing to go
there .... What about a four-ball this afternoon, Andrew?"
The four-ball match was played and won in normal fashion. The
two men returned to town together afterwards, Wilmore to the club
and Francis to his rooms in Clarges Street to prepare for dinner.
At a few minutes to eight he rang the bell of number 10 b, Hill
Street, and found his host and hostess awaiting him in the small
drawing-room into which he was ushered. It seemed to him that
the woman, still colourless, again marvellously gowned, greeted
him coldly. His host, however, was almost too effusive. There
was no other guest, but the prompt announcement of dinner
dispelled what might have been a few moments of embarrassment
after Oliver Hilditch's almost too cordial greeting. The woman
laid her fingers upon her guest's coat-sleeve. The trio crossed
the little hall almost in silence.
Dinner was served in a small white Georgian dining-room, with
every appurtenance of almost Sybaritic luxury. The only light in
the room was thrown upon the table by two purple-shaded electric
lamps, and the servants who waited seemed to pass backwards and
forwards like shadows in some mysterious twilight--even the faces
of the three diners themselves were out of the little pool of
light until they leaned forward.
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