Chapter 22

“Yes, now then, that should only take a moment. Witherspoon’s is quite convenient to Mayfair.” He took his pocket watch from his waistcoat and glanced at it. “Dear me, I’m afraid I really must run. I’ll be in touch, Trevalyan.” He shook my hand. “Good evening.”

“Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Father.” Jeremy held out his hand, and rather reluctantly, it seemed to me, his father took it, then turned on his heel and left us to wait for the cab.

We were silent on the drive to Kensington, and it was only as the driver pulled up in front of my parents’ home that I realised I hadn’t any money on me.

“I say, old chap, I know you won’t believe this, but…”

Jeremy had seen me fumbling in my pockets. “It’s quite all right, James.” He withdrew his wallet and paid the man, and we stepped out into the cool September night.

“Well, I’m glad one of us has some common sense.” I unlocked the front door and we entered the house.

“Anyone can forget his wallet.”