But now he suddenly laid his cigar upon his plate, and, after glancing quickly about him, leaned eagerly forward.

They were at the corner table of the terrace, and, as it was now past nine o'clock, the other diners had departed to the theatres and they were quite alone.

Below them, outside the open windows, were the trees of the embankment, and beyond, the Thames, blocked to the west by the great shadows of the Houses of Parliament, lit only by the flame in the tower that showed the Lower House was still sitting.
"I'LL give you an idea for a rag," whispered Ford.

"One that is risky, that will make the country sit up, that ought to land you in Jail?
Have you read 'The Riddle of the Sands' ?" Bellew and Herbert nodded; Birrell made no sign.
"Don't mind him," exclaimed Herbert impatiently.

"HE never reads anything! Go on!" "It's the book most talked about," explained Ford.