"I shan't give it away. Where shall I find
you?"
"Well," she said, "we talked it over and decided that the best hiding
place was one of the larger hotels. We are at the Ritz."
"I'll come right along if I may."
"Very well," she agreed. "Ask for Mr. Bundercombe."
I groaned under my breath, but I made no further comment; and in a very
few minutes I presented myself at the Ritz Hotel. I was escorted upstairs
and ushered into a very delightful suite on the second floor. Eve rose to
meet me from behind a little tea-table. She was charmingly dressed and
looking exceedingly well. Mr. Bundercombe, on the other hand, who was
walking up and down the apartment with his hands behind his back, was
distinctly nervous. He nodded at my entrance.
"How are you, Walmsley?" he said. "How are you?"
"I am quite well, sir, thank you," I replied, a little stupefied.
"Say, I'm afraid we are making a great mistake here," he went on
anxiously. "We've slipped a point too near to the wind this time."
"If you'll allow me to tell you exactly what I think," I ventured,
"frankly I think you have made a mistake. There's that matter of Reggie
Sidley. He was worrying me all yesterday morning to find out where you
were, and when I evaded the point he told me straight that he didn't
believe you were the Bundercombes at all.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141