Arrived in his
sitting-room he sank exhausted on to the nearest chair. Gammon saw
that he pointed feebly to the drink cupboard, and heard a gasp that
sounded like "brandy."
"Better not," replied the clear-headed man. "I wouldn't if I were
you."
But his lordship insisted, looking reproachfully, and the brandy was
produced. It did him good; that is to say, it brought colour to his
face, and enabled him to sit upright. No sooner was he thus
recovered than his eyes fell upon the envelope of a telegram which
lay on his writing-table.
"There it is, at last!"
He tore the paper, all but sobbing with agony of impatience.
"Good God, I can't see it! I've gone half blind all at once. Read it
for me, Gammon."
"Hope see you to-night. Important news. If not, in morning.
--Greenacre."
"Where did he send it from?"
"Euston, six o'clock."
"Then he came by the Irish day-mail. Why didn't I think of that and
meet the train? What does he mean by to-night or to-morrow morning?
What does he _mean_?"
"How can I tell?" replied Gammon.
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