to the outer office. After a second's consideration,
he went into this unlighted outer office, and called
out through the opaque glass an enquiry. The sound
of his voice, as it analyzed itself in his own ears,
seemed unduly peremptory. The answer which came back
brought a flash of wonderment to his eyes. He hurriedly
unlocked and opened the door.

"I saw the lights in what I made out to be the Board Room,"
said the newcomer, as he entered. "I assumed it must be you.
Hope I don't interrupt anything."

"Nothing could have given me greater pleasure, Lord Plowden,"
replied the other, leading the way back to the inner apartment.
"In fact, I couldn't have asked anything better."

The tone of his voice had a certain anxious note in it
not quite in harmony with this declaration. He turned,
under the drop-light overhanging the Board-table, and shook
hands with his guest, as if to atone for this doubtful accent.
"I shake hands with you again," he said, speaking rapidly,
"because this afternoon it was what you may call formal;
it didn't count. And--my God!--you're the man I owe it
all to."

"Oh, you mustn't go as far as that--even in the absence
of witnesses," replied Lord Plowden, lightly. "I'll take
off my coat for a few minutes," he went on, very much
at his ease. "It's hot in here. It's by the merest
chance I happened to be detained in the City--and I saw