ur? I haven't seen him for ages. I
never get over to Paris these days."

"Delacour's all right," I answered--"at least, as far as I know."

Tommy walked across the room to a corner cupboard. "You'll have a
drink, won't you?" he asked; "there's whisky and brandy, and Grand
Marnier, and I've got a bottle of port somewhere if you'd care for a
glass."

There was a short pause. Then in my natural voice I remarked quietly
and distinctly: "You were always a drunken old blackguard, Tommy."

The effect was immense. For a moment Tommy remained perfectly still,
his mouth open, his eyes almost starting out of his head. Then quite
suddenly he sat down heavily on the couch, clutching a bottle of
whisky in one hand and a tumbler in the other.

"Well, I'm damned!" he whispered.

"Never mind, Tommy," I said cheerfully; "you'll be in the very best
society."

CHAPTER XIII

REGARDING MR. BRUCE LATIMER

For perhaps a second Tommy remained motionless; then sitting up he
removed the cork, and poured himself out about a quarter of a tumbler
of neat spirit. He drained this off at a gulp, and put down both the
glass and the bottle.

"God deliver us!" he observed; "is it really you?"

I nodded. "What's left of me, Tommy."

He jumped to his feet, and the next moment he was crushing my hands
with a grip that would have broken some people's fingers. "You old
ruffian!" he muttered; "I always said you'd do something like this.
Lord alive, it's good to see you, though!" Then, pulling me up out of
the chair, he caught me by the shoulders and stared incredulously
into my face. "But what the devil's happened? What have you done to
yourself?"

"I know what I'm going to do to myself," I replied. "I am going to
get outside some of that drink you were talking about--if there's any
left."

With something between a laugh and a choke he let me go, and crossing
to the couch picked up the whisky and splashed out a generous tot into
the glass.

"Here you are--and I'm hanged if I don't have another one myself. I
believe I could drink the whole bottle without turning a hair."

"I'm quite sure you could, Tommy," I said, "unless you've
deteriorated."

We raised our tumblers and clinked them together with a force that
cracked mine from the rim to the bottom. I drained off the contents,
however, before they could escape, and flung the broken glass into the
fireplace.

"It would have been blasphemous to drink out of it again in any case,"