Bundercombe is looking for trouble. I scarcely see, however, how I am
concerned in the matter. You have the advantage of me, sir!"
I stared at him and stooped a little lower.
"She's tearing mad!" I whispered. "You don't want a scene. Couldn't you
make an excuse and slip away?"
Mr. Bundercombe frowned at me. He glanced at the young lady as though
seeking for some explanation.
"Is this young gentleman known to you, Miss Blanche?" he inquired.
She set down her glass and shook her head.
"Never saw him before in my life!" she declared. "What's worrying him?"
"Hitherto," Mr. Bundercombe said, "my somewhat unusual personal appearance
has kept me from an adventure of this sort, but I clearly understand that
I am now being mistaken for some one else. Your references to a Mrs.
Bundercombe, sir, are Greek to me. My name is Parker--Mr. Joseph H.
Parker."
"Do you mean to keep this up?" I protested.
Mr. Bundercombe beckoned to the _maitre d'hotel_ who came hastily to his
side.
"Do you know this gentleman?" he asked.
The _maitre d'hotel_ bowed.
"Certainly, sir," he answered, with a questioning glance toward me. "This
is Mr. Walmsley."
"Then will you take Mr. Walmsley back to his place?" Mr.
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