"
"I shall take you into my confidence, at any rate," he promised, "and you
shall decide afterwards. I warn you, you will think that I have drunk
deep of the Bowery melodrama."
"I shall mind nothing," she laughed as she assured him. "When do
we begin?"
Wingate was thoughtful for a moment or two. They both heard the opening
of a heavy door down below, the hailing of a taxi by the butler, and
Dredlinton's voice in the street.
"Is that your husband going?" he enquired.
She nodded.
"Then I am going to make a most singular request," he said. "I am going
to ask you whether you would show me over the portion of the house which
you used as a hospital."
CHAPTER VIII
Wingate returned to his rooms at the Milan about eleven o'clock that
evening, to find Roger Kendrick, Maurice White and the Honourable Jimmy
Wilshaw stretched out in his most comfortable chairs, drinking whiskies
and sodas and smoking cigarettes.
"Welcome!" he exclaimed, smiling upon them from the threshold. "Are you
all here? Is there any one I forgot to invite?"
"The man's tone is inhospitable," the Honourable Jimmy murmured, showing
no inclination to rise.
"I decline to apologise," Kendrick said. "The fact of it is, we're here
for your good, Wingate. We are here to see that you do not die of ennui
and loneliness in this stony-hearted city.
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