|16|Clavering walked rapidly toward Mr. Dinwiddie's club. He was in no haste to be alone with himself, although he should have been at his desk an hour ago. But it was time Dinwiddie had some news for him.
The club was deserted as far as he was concerned and he went on to Mr. Dinwiddie's rooms in Forty-eighth Street. There he found his friend in dressing-gown and slippers, one bandaged foot on a stool.
"Gout?" he asked with the callousness of youth. "Wondered why I hadn't heard from you."
"I've tried to get you no less than four times on the telephone."
"When I'm at work I leave orders downstairs to let my telephone alone, and I've been walking a lot."
"Well, sit down and smoke. Standing round makes me nervous. You look nervous yourself. Been working too hard?"
"Yes. Think of taking
