— XLII —MR. CARPENTER
The Marquis of Skye was a man of many acquaintances. Being in the mood, he dined that night at a certain restaurant which was much frequented by the people. The diners there were, for the most part, comparatively early folk, going on to some theatrical entertainment, and desirous of reaching it before the curtain rose. When the marquis entered, the greater part of them were already gone. Only a few of the tables continued to be occupied. At one of them sat a man alone. He saw the marquis as soon as he entered, and nodded. The marquis crossed towards him with a smile of pleasure.
“Have you room at your table for me?”
“I have.”
“Then we’ll dine together.”
“But I’m half-way through my dinner.”
“That doesn’t matter; I’ll catch you up. I eat at a gallop. I’ll underta
