The question of the time of day struck him as a suitably
conventional remark with which to break the embarrassing silence.
"What is the time?" he said. "I am afraid I ought to be--"
"There is plenty of time," said the grave voice across the table.
With a sudden movement Laurie was on his feet, peering at the clock,
knowing that something was wrong somewhere. Then he turned to the
company bewildered and suspicious.
"Why, it is nearly eight," he cried.
Mr. Vincent smiled reassuringly.
"It is about that," he said. "Please sit down again, Mr. Baxter."
"But--but--" began Laurie.
"Please sit down again, Mr. Baxter," repeated the voice, with a touch
of imperiousness that there was no resisting.
Laurie sat down again; but he was alert, suspicious, and intensely
puzzled.
"Will you kindly tell me what has happened?" he asked sharply.
"You feel tired?"
"No; I am all right. Kindly tell me what has happened."
He saw Lady Laura whisper something in an undertone he could not
hear. Mr. Vincent stood up with a nod and leaned himself against the
mantelpiece, looking down at the rather indignant young man.
"Certainly," he said. "You are sure you are not exhausted, Mr.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101