Rushcroft been dead?"
A hurt, incredulous look came into Mr. Rushcroft's eyes. "Is it
possible that you have forgotten the celebrated case of Rushcroft vs.
Rushcroft, not more than six years back? Good Lord, man, it was one of
the most sensational cases that ever--But I see that you do not recall
it. You must have been abroad at the time. I don't believe I ever knew
of a case being quite so admirably handled by the press as that one
was. She got it after a bitter and protracted fight. Infidelity.
Nothing so rotten as cruelty or desertion,--no sir!"
"Ahem!" coughed Miss Tilly.
"The dear old girl married again," sighed Mr. Rushcroft, helping
himself to Barnes' butter. "Did very well, too. Man in the wine trade.
He saves a great deal, you see, by getting it at cost, and I can
assure you, on my word of honour, sir, that he'll find it quite an
item. What is it, Mr. Bacon? Any word from New York?"
Mr. Bacon hovered near, perhaps hungrily.
"Our genial host has instructed me to say to his latest guest that the
rates are two dollars a day, in advance, all dining-room checks
payable on presentation," said Mr. Bacon, apologetically.
Rushcroft exploded. "A scurvy insult," he boomed.
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