Audrey repeated her question.
"I don't know. Isn't he in the office? He went up to the Temple after lunch. I don't think I've seen him since."
"Thank you, sir. I will go up to the Temple."
Cayley returned to his book.
The "Temple" was a brick summer-house, in the gardens at the back of the house, about three hundred yards away.
Here Mark meditated sometimes before retiring to the "office" to put his thoughts upon paper.
The thoughts were not of any great value; moreover, they were given off at the dinner-table more often than they got on to paper, and got on to paper more often than they got into print.
But that did not prevent the master of The Red House from being a little pained when a visitor treated the Temple carelessly, as if it had been erected for the ordinary purposes of flirtation and cigarette-smoking.
There had been an occasion when two of his guests had been found playing fives in it.
Mark had said nothing at the time, save to ask with a little less than his usual point-whether they couldn't find anywhere else for their game, but the offenders were never asked to The Red House again.