"
"Are we to see the fight in the gymnasium?" Lady Cynthia
enquired.
Sir Timothy shook his head.
"I do not allow women there under any conditions," he said. "You
and Margaret had better stay here whilst that takes place. It
will probably be over in twenty minutes. It will be time then
for us to find our way to the launch. After that, if you have
any appetite, supper. I will order some caviare sandwiches for
you," Sir Timothy went on, ringing the bell, "and some wine."
Lady Cynthia smiled.
"It is really a very wonderful party," she murmured.
Their host ushered the two men across the hall, now comparatively
deserted, for every one had settled down to his or her chosen
amusement--down a long passage, through a private door which he
unlocked with a Yale key, and into the gymnasium. There were
less than fifty spectators seated around the ring, and Francis,
glancing at them hastily, fancied that he recognised nearly every
one of them. There was Baker, a judge, a couple of actors, Lord
Meadowson, the most renowned of sporting peers, and a dozen who
followed in his footsteps; a little man who had once been amateur
champion in the bantam class, and who was now considered the
finest judge of boxing in the world; a theatrical manager, the
present amateur boxing champion, and a sprinkling of others.
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