"We want to see Etterick, so we shall come to lunch to-morrow, Lewie,"
said his aunt. "So be prepared, my dear, and be on your best
behaviour."
Then, with his two friends, he turned towards the lights of his home.
CHAPTER VII
THE MAKERS OF EMPIRE
The day before the events just recorded two men had entered the door of
a certain London club and made their way to a remote little smoking-room
on the first floor. It was not a handsome building, nor had it any
particular outlook or position. It was a small, old-fashioned place in
a side street, in style obviously of last century, and the fittings
within were far from magnificent. Yet no club carried more distinction
in its membership. Its hundred possible inmates were the cream of the
higher professions, the chef and the cellar were things to wonder at,
and the man who could write himself a member of the Rota Club had
obtained one of the rare social honours which men confer on one another.
Thither came all manner of people--the distinguished foreigner travelling
incognito, and eager to talk with some Minister unofficially on matters
of import, the diplomat on a secret errand, the traveller home for a
brief season, the soldier, the thinker, the lawyer. It was a catholic
assembly, but exclusive--very. Each man bore the stamp of competence on
his face, and there was no cheap talk of the "well-informed" variety.
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