And then very suddenly he caught
sight of the tail-lamp of a car close to his own gate.
Dinah had returned then. They had actually chartered that car to convey
her from Great Mallowes. He pursed his lips to a whistle. The little girl
had been in clover indeed.
"She certainly won't think much of the home crusts after this," he
murmured to himself.
He walked Rupert round to the tumble-down stable, and dismounted.
For the next quarter of an hour he was busy over the animal. He thought
it a little strange that Dinah did not spy the stable-lamp from the
kitchen and come dancing out to greet him. He also wondered why the car
lingered so long. It looked as if someone other than the maid had
accompanied her, and were staying to tea.
He never took tea after a day's hunting; hot whisky and water and a bath
formed his customary programme, and then a tasty supper and bed.
He supposed on this occasion that he would have to go in and show
himself, though he was certainly not fit to be seen. Reluctantly he
pulled the bedraggled pink coat on again. After all, it did not greatly
matter. Hunting was its own excuse. No sportsman ever returned in the
apple-pie order in which he started.
Carelessly he sauntered in by way of the back premises, and was instantly
struck by the sound of a man's voice, well-bred, with a slightly haughty
intonation, speaking in one of the front rooms of the little house.
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