"I was wondering whether any disturbance will be made in the abbey."
"I should be sorry for the brawler."
A bell rang sharply from the row of telephone labels. Oliver rose and went to it. Mabel watched him as he touched a button—mentioned his name, and put his ear to the opening.
"It is Snowford's secretary," he said abruptly to the two expectant faces. "Snowford wants to—ah!"
Again he mentioned his name and listened. They heard a sentence or two from him that seemed significant.
"Ah! that is certain, is it? I am sorry.... Yes.... Oh! but that is better than nothing.... Yes; he is here.... Indeed. Very well; we will be with you directly."
He looked on the tube, touched the button again, and came back to them.
"I am sorry," he said. "The President will take no part at the Feast. But it is uncertain whether he will not be present. Mr. Snowford wants to see us both at once, Mr. Francis. Markenheim is with him."
But though Mabel was herself disappointed, she thought he looked graver than the disappointment warranted.
