“Very good, my lord.”

With a sigh of relief, Lord Caterham prepared to retreat.

“That beggar, Isaacstein, sleeps soundly,” he remarked, with a touch of envy. “You’d have thought all this row would have brought him down.” He looked across at Mr. Fish. “You found time to dress, I see,” he added.

“I flung on a few articles of clothing, yes,” admitted the American.

“Very sensible of you,” said Lord Caterham. “Damned chilly things, pyjamas.”

He yawned. In a rather depressed mood, the house party retired to bed.