“What about Fordyce’s article this morning?”
“This morning I couldn’t conceive how the fellow had got the information. This evening or to-morrow morning”—he tapped his breast pocket—“if I am asked, I can point to a dual source of leakage.”
He folded his arms, the crafty political intriguer, thin and triumphant.
“Of us two,” said Baltazar, “it strikes me that you are the damnder scoundrel.”
“What you think is a matter of perfect indifference to me,” retorted Donnithorpe. “What does interest me is the fact that my wife was going to stay with Lady Manning in the New Forest while Lady Manning is in London, and that when I find her here with you, she decides not to go to the New Forest after all.”
Lady Edna flushed angrily. She was out-manœuvred, outclassed, beaten on all sides by the thin
