"Lady Dennisford," I said, "I had a particular reason for coming to see
you this morning."
She raised her eyebrows.
"My dear Jim!"
"I, too, have a visitor," I told her; "rather a more mysterious person
than yours seems to be. He is very ill indeed; and he is almost a
stranger to me. But he was once, I believe, a friend of yours."
"A friend of mine!" she repeated. "How interesting! Do tell me his name!"
"I cannot do that," I answered, "because I do not know it--not his real
name. But in the park this morning, I happened to tell him who lived
here, and although he is very weak, he insisted upon paying you an
immediate visit."
She looked around the room.
"But where is he?" she asked.
"He is outside on the terrace," I answered.
"My dear Jim!" she exclaimed, "really, all this mystery isn't like you.
Aren't you overdoing it a little? Do call your friend in, and let me see
who he is!"
"Lady Dennisford," I said, "of course, my guest may have misled me; but
he seemed to think that an abrupt meeting might be undesirable.
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