I think he goes off and
plays bowls at the madhouse. You see, Reggie, old man, we have to study
Ponsonby a little. He's always on the verge of giving notice--in fact,
it was only by coaxing him on one or two occasions that we got him to
stay on--and he's such a treasure that I don't know what we should do
if we lost him. But, if you think that I ought to stay longer----?"
"Certainly I do. You ought to do a thing like this properly, or not at
all."
He sighed.
"It's a frightful risk, but in future we'll dine at eight."
It seemed to me that there was a suspicion of a cloud on Ponsonby's
shining morning face, when the news was broken to him that for the
future he couldn't unleash himself on the local bowling talent as early
as usual, but he made no kick, and the new order of things began.
My next offensive movement I attribute to a flash of absolute genius. I
was glancing through a photograph album in the drawing-room before
lunch, when I came upon a face which I vaguely remembered. It was one
of those wide, flabby faces, with bulging eyes, and something about it
struck me as familiar. I consulted Harold, who came in at that moment.
"That?" said Harold. "That's Percy." He gave a slight shudder.
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