"He had fallen rather low," and he told Willoughby of their meeting outside of the cafe of Tewfikieh.

"It's strange, isn't it ?--a man whom one knew very well going under like that in a second, disappearing before your eyes as it were, dropping plumb out of sight as though down an oubliette in an old French castle.

I want you to look out for him, Willoughby, and do what you can to set him on his legs again.
Let me know if you chance on him.

Harry Feversham was a friend of mine--one of my few real friends." "All right," said Willoughby, cheerfully.

Durrance knew at once from the tone of his voice that suspicion was quieted in him.