As he hunted through the rooms, almost deserted at this hour, his
eyes searching for his friend, a new thought popped into his head,
and with such force that it bowled him over into a chair, where he
sat staring straight in front of him. Tonight, he suddenly
remembered, was the night of the dinner his uncle was to give to
some business friends--"A Gold-Mine Dinner," his aunt had called
it. His cheeks flamed again when he thought that these very men
had helped in the Mukton swindle. To interrupt them, though, at
their feast--or even to mention the subject to his uncle while the
dinner was in progress--was, of course, out of the question. He
would stay where he was; dine alone, unless Garry came in, and
then when the last man had left his uncle's house he would have it
out with him.
Biffton was the only man who disturbed his solitude. Biffy was in
full evening dress--an enormous white carnation in his button-hole
and a crush hat under his arm. He was booked for a "Stag," he said
with a yawn, or he would stay and keep him company.
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