"
"Bless my soul, no more you do! We are at Number 17, Banton Street--just
off Oxford Street, you know."
"I am coming straightaway," I replied.
I was there within ten minutes. The place seemed to be a sort of private
hotel, unostentatious and unprepossessing. A hall porter, whose uniform
had seen better days and whose linen had seen cleaner ones, conducted me
to the first floor. Mr. Parker himself met me on the landing.
"Come right in!" he invited. "I saw you drive up. Eve is in there."
He ushered me into a large sitting room of the type one would expect to
find in such a place, but which, by dint of many cushions, flowers, and
feminine knickknacks, had been made to look presentable. Eve was seated in
an easy-chair by the fire. She turned round at my entrance and laughed.
"Where's my necklace, please?" she demanded.
"The necklace," I replied, as severely as I could, "is by this time on its
way to Lady Orstline--if it is not actually in her hands."
"You mean to say you have sent it back?" Mr. Parker exclaimed
incredulously.
"Certainly!" I replied. "I posted it to her early this morning."
Mr. Parker's expression was one of blank bewilderment.
"Say, do I understand you rightly?" he continued, coming up and laying his
great hand upon my shoulder.
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