‘I know him,’ said Nidderdale shaking his head.

‘I should think so,’ said Miles ruefully.

‘A bottle of champagne!’ said Nidderdale, appealing to the waiter in almost a humble voice, feeling that he wanted sustenance in this new trouble that had befallen him.  The waiter, beaten almost to the ground by an awful sense of the condition of the club, whispered to him the terrible announcement that there was not a bottle of champagne in the house.  ‘Good G——­,’ exclaimed the unfortunate nobleman.  Miles Grendall shook his head.  Grasslough shook his head.

‘It’s true,’ said another young lord from the table on the other side.  Then the waiter, still speaking with suppressed and melancholy voice, suggested that there was some port left.  It was now the middle...