As the prospect darkened each morning, he was in a distress lest a letter should not have been forwarded from his flat in London, or should have been lost in the post.

Each evening when the party returned from the races his first question asked whether there was no telegram awaiting him.

So regular and urgent were his inquiries that the house-party could not be ignorant of his preoccupation.

And on the afternoon of the Thursday a telegram in its orange envelope was lying upon the hall-table.
"It's for you, Mr.Hillyard," said Lady Splay.
Hillyard held it in his hands.

So the summons had come, the summons hoped for, despaired of, made so often into a whip wherewith he lashed his arrogance, the summons to serve.
"I shall have to go up to town this evening," he said.
Anxious faces gathered about him.
"Oh, don't do that!" said Harold Jupp.