The Lady in Blue by Fred M. White

A feeble voice at the other end of the telephone plaintively asked for further information. But Clutton had none to offer. He did not propose to discuss matters of deep importance with the chance of somebody hearing what he had to say. And he knew his man. In fact, there were few people of any sort of standing in society or finance that Spencer Clutton did not know. Also, he was perfectly well aware of the fact that young Reginald Hermann would be flattered by the suggestion that he was going to share Clutton's confidence in any form. Obviously, Hermann was both suspicious and frightened, as, indeed, was excusable, seeing that he had the weight of the diamond business still on his mind, and as yet he had not plucked up courage enough to take his father into his confidence. Somewhat reluctantly he agreed to fall in with Clutton's suggestion and promised to come round at once.

It was not the sleek, well-groomed, self-assured Reginald Hermann who came into the sitting-room half an hour later. He looked very nice, he was a credit to his tailor and hairdresser, but his shoulders were bent, and there was a vacant look in his shallow eyes. More or less mechanically he accepted Clutton's proffered cigarette, but there was no flavour in the tobacco.