Among the passengers dotted about on the platform, awaiting their respective trains, Sletherby espied a club acquaintance, and beckoned him up to the carriage-window for a chat.

“Oh, you’re staying with Mrs. Saltpen-Jago for the weekend, are you? I expect you’ll have a good time; she has the reputation of being an excellent hostess. She’ll be useful to you, too, if that Parliamentary project⁠—hullo, you’re off. Goodbye.”