almost at once he withdrew his hand and moved from the
wardrobe to a table beside the fireplace, carrying a small
glass tube filled with tabloids.

On the table were a decanter, a siphon, and a water-jug.
Mixing some whiskey, he uncorked the tube, again he glanced
apprehensively towards the door, then with a very nervous hand
dropped two tabloids into the glass.

While they dissolved he stood with his hand on the table and
his eyes fixed on the floor, evidently restraining his
impatience. Instantly they had disappeared he seized the
glass and drained it at a draught, replaced the bottle in the
wardrobe, and, shivering slightly in the raw air, slipped back
into bed.

When Allsopp returned he was sitting up, a cigarette between
his lips, the teacup standing empty on the salver. The
nervous irritability had gone from his manner. He no longer
moved jerkily, his eyes looked brighter, his pale skin more
healthy.

"Ah, Allsopp," he said, "there are some moments in life, after
all. It isn't all blank wall."

"I ordered breakfast in the small morning-room, sir," said
Allsopp, without a change of expression.

Chilcote breakfasted at ten. His appetite, always fickle, was
particularly uncertain in the early hours. He helped himself