“As for what you suggest about the detective, it is, of course, absolutely absurd.” “Quite so, my dear.” “You mustn’t think of it.” “Just as you say, my dear.” Lady Julia left the room. What followed may afford some slight clue to the secret of Sir Thomas Blunt’s rise in the world. It certainly suggests singleness of purpose, which is one of the essentials of success. No sooner had the door closed behind Lady Julia than he went to his writing-table, took pen and paper, and wrote the following letter: “To the Manager, Wragge’s Detective Agency, Holborn Bars, London, E.C. “Sir,—With reference to my last of the 28th ult., I should be glad if you would send down immediately one of your best men. Am making arrangements to receive him. Kindly instruct him to present himself at Dreever Castle as applicant for position of valet to myself. I will see and engage him on his arrival, and further instruct him in his duties.—Yours faithfully, Thos. Blunt. Thos. Blunt “P.S.—I shall expect him to-morrow evening. There is a good train leaving Paddington at 2.15.” He read it over and put in a couple of commas, then placed it in an envelope, and lit a cigar with the air of one who can be checked—yes, but vanquished, never. ★ 9 ★ A New Friend and an Old One ★ 9 ★ On the night of the day on which Sir Thomas Blunt wrote his letter to Wragge’s, Jimmy Pitt was supping at the Savoy. If you have the money and the clothes, and do not object to being turned out into the night just as you are beginning to enjoy yourself, there are few things pleasanter than supper at the Savoy Hotel, London. But as Jimmy sat there, eyeing the multitude through the smoke of his cigarette, he felt, despite all the brightness and glitter, that this was a flat world and that he was very much alone in it.
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