As he did so, Durrance laid down his cigar upon the table edge.
"And we shall never dine with Castleton again," he said slowly.
"Castleton wasn't there," Willoughby exclaimed, and quickly enough to betray that, however long the interval since that little dinner in Feversham's rooms, it was at all events still distinct in his recollections.
"No, but he was expected," said Durrance.
"No, not even expected," corrected Willoughby.

"He was dining elsewhere.
He sent the telegram, you remember." "Ah, yes, a telegram came," said Durrance.
That dinner party certainly deserved consideration.

Willoughby, Trench, Castleton--these three men were the cause of Harry Feversham's disgrace and disappearance.

Durrance tried to recollect all the details of the evening; but he had been occupied himself on that occasion.

He remembered leaning against the window above St.James's Park; he remembered hearing the tattoo from the parade-ground of Wellington Barracks--and a telegram had come.
Durrance made up another picture in his mind.