He was quite unable to make a dash for liberty, however, since Lomax had the unpleasant habit of retaining a hold upon a person with whom he was engaged in serious conversation⁠—doubtless the result of long experience. In this case, he had a firm grip of the lapel of Lord Caterham’s coat.

“My dear man, I put it to you imperially. In a moment of national crisis, such as is fast approaching⁠—”

Lord Caterham wriggled uneasily. He felt suddenly that he would rather give any number of house parties than listen to George Lomax quoting from one of his own speeches. He knew by experience that Lomax was quite capable of going on for twenty minutes without a stop.

“All right,” he said hastily, “I’ll do it. You’ll arrange the whole thing, I suppose.”

“My dear fellow, there’s nothing to arrange. Chimneys, quite apart from its historic associations, is ideally situated. I shall be at the Abbey, less than seven miles away. It wouldn’t do, of course, for me to be actually a member of the house party.”