Love Insurance by Earl Derr Biggers — Read

At ten o'clock that Saturday morning Lord Harrowby was engrossed in the ceremony of breakfast in his rooms. For the occasion he wore an orange and purple dressing-gown with a floral design no botanist could have sanctioned -- the sort of dressing-gown that Arnold Bennett, had he seen it, would have made a leading character in a novel. He was cheerful, was Harrowby, and as he glanced through an old copy of the _London Times_ he made strange noises in his throat, under the impression that he was humming a musical comedy chorus.

There was a knock, and Harrowby cried: "Come in. " Mr. Minot, fresh as the morning and nowhere near so hot, entered.