Nor on glancing down the columns could he find in any paragraph a statement that any mishap had befallen him.

But on the other hand he read that he himself, Henry Thresk, having brought his case to a successful conclusion, had left India yesterday by the mail-steamer Madras, bound for Marseilles.

He threw down the paper and went to the telephone-box.

If the news were true the one person likely to know of it was Mrs.Repton.
Thresk rang up the house on the Khamballa Hill and asked to speak to her.
An answer was returned to him at once that Mrs.Repton had given orders that she was not to be disturbed.

Thresk however insisted: "Will you please give my name to her--Henry Thresk," and he waited with his ear to the receiver for a century.