3. THE FALLEN FLOWER
But when they stepped through the passage into the living-room the lady was not there. Two men were warming themselves before the fire: one, a round, cheery, red-faced little man, the other a pale youth with black curly hair and a weak but handsome face. The older of the two stepped forward.
“Hello, Dudley,” he said. “This is like old times, isn’t it? Ellen back at the old house again and—er—ah—and all that.”
“Hello, Jim,” Ward replied. He introduced his guests to Jim, who was, it appeared, Mr. Dinsdale, manager of the Tavern. When he had finished, the hotel man turned to the boy who accompanied him.
“This is Mr. Hugh Beaton,” he announced. “Ellen and Mr. Beaton’s sister have gone up-stairs to leave their wraps, and—”
Mr. Romano had leaped to the boy’s side and wa
