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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Wilshaw seems to be having a little trouble with the outside porter," her host remarked presently. "It must cost him at least half a sovereign every time I leave the cab," Sarah sighed. "How much do you make a week out of your driving, if it isn't too personal a question?" he enquired. "It depends upon how much Jimmy's got." "Is he your only client, then?"
Wingate returned to his rooms at the Milan about eleven o'clock that evening, to find Roger Kendrick, Maurice White and the Honourable Jimmy Wilshaw stretched out in his most comfortable chairs, drinking whiskies and sodas and smoking cigarettes. "Welcome!" he exclaimed, smiling upon them from the threshold. "Are you all here? Is there any one I forgot to invite?"
Lady Amesbury, this Maryland chicken is one of our favourite New York dishes. Kendrick, have some more wine. Wilshaw, your appetite has soon flagged." "All the same," Kendrick mused, "it's a dashed queer thing about Stanley Rees." After his guests had departed, Wingate had a few minutes alone with Josephine. "I hate letting you go back to that house," he admitted. She laughed softly.
Sarah sighed as her host arranged her cloak around her. "Sorry we couldn't have stayed a little longer," she said. "Mr. Wingate was just getting most interesting." "You'll have a drink before you go, Wilshaw?" Wingate insisted. "Say when." The young man accepted the whisky and soda and promptly disposed of it. "Thanks, old chap!
"Too old, my dear young lady," her host lamented, as he mixed himself a whisky and soda. "Rubbish!" she scoffed. "Too much in love with some one else, I believe." "These are too strenuous days for that sort of thing," he rejoined, "except for children like you and Mr. Wilshaw." "I don't know so much about that," she objected.
"Not at all, but I was wondering whether it wouldn't be cheaper for you to marry Jimmy, as you call him." "We have spoken about it once or twice," she admitted. "The worst of it is, I don't think the cab would support two." "Is Wilshaw so badly off?" "His money is tied up until he is twenty-eight," Sarah explained. "I think that his father must have known how he was going to turn out.
The young man the Honourable James Wilshaw suddenly dropped his eyeglass and assumed an anxious expression. "I say, what's wrong with them, White?" he demanded. "They're large holders of wheat, and wheat's going up all the time." "Wheat's going up because they're buying," was the dry comment. "Directly they leave off it will drop, and when it begins to drop, look out for a slump in B. & I.'s."
"I don't need to suggest to you, Dredlinton," he went on, "what means you should use to make your wife obey you, but there are means, and if you're not the man to realise them, I'm very much surprised in you. I will begin with a concrete case. Your wife, together with that fellow Wilshaw and Miss Baldwin, have accepted an invitation from Wingate to dine and go to a theatre to-morrow night.
You mean that you are coming here, up to my room? I don't quite understand. Yes, of course. One moment, please. Come up by the east lift unless you want to meet Sarah Baldwin and Wilshaw. They have this moment left me. The hall porter will show you." Wingate laid down the receiver, glanced for a moment at the clock, hurried to the door, pushed back and secured the latch.
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