I am not sure--but I believe we saw him in Bond
Street quite three quarters of an hour ago."
"There is another way out?" Mrs. Bundercombe asked hastily.
"Certainly there is," I told her; "into Jermyn Street."
"Why was I not told?" she demanded, rising unwillingly to her feet.
"Really," I assured her, "I didn't think of it."
She followed us out. We all walked down Piccadilly.
"Will you please," she said, "direct me to a tea-shop?"
I pointed one out to her. She left us without a word of farewell. Eve and
I turned down into the Haymarket.
"Nice example your parents are setting us!" I remarked.
Eve sighed.
"I wish I knew what dad was up to!" she murmured.
At that moment we met him. He came strolling along, his silk hat a little
on the back of his head, a cigar in his mouth, his hands grasping his cane
behind his back. "Bundercombe or Parker?" I inquired as we came to a
standstill on the pavement.
He grinned.
"Nasty business, that!" he remarked cheerfully. "Why don't you keep to the
Ritz or the Berkeley? Anyway," he added, his tone changing, "I'm glad I met you, Paul. I want your help in a little matter."
I shook my head.
"Quite out of the question!" I declared emphatically.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160