In a minute more, I heard his footstep in the hall. He opened the breakfast-room door, and stood on the threshold, with a small traveling-bag in his hand.
"I beg your pardon," he said, still standing at the door. "I must ask for leave of absence for a day or two. Business in London.""Can I be of any use?" I asked. "I am afraid your letter has brought you bad news?""Yes," he said shortly. "Bad news. I have no time for breakfast.""Wait a few minutes," I urged. "Wait long enough to treat me like your friend--to tell me what your trouble is before you go."He made no reply. He stepped into the hall and closed the door--then opened it again a little way, without showing himself.
"Business in London," he repeated--as if he thought it highly important to inform me of the nature of his errand. The door closed for the second time. He was gone.
I went into my study, and carefully considered what had happened.
