"I trust," I began hastily, "that Mr. Bundercombe has not--"
"Precisely about him, sir, that I came to see you," Mr. Cullen
interrupted. "I am bound to admit that a few weeks ago there was no man in
the world I would have laid my hands on so readily. That day at the Ritz,
however, changed my views completely. I feel," he added, with a dry smile,
"that I got more than level with Mr. Bundercombe when I sent for his
wife."
"So it was you who sent the cables that brought her over!" I remarked.
"But please remember, sir," he begged apologetically, "that I had never
seen the lady. I sent the cables, confidently anticipating that she would
disclaim all knowledge of Mr. Bundercombe. When she arrived, and I
realized that she was actually his wife, I forgave him freely for all the
small annoyances he had caused me: my visit to you this morning, in fact,
is entirely in his interests."
"What has Mr. Bundercombe been up to now?" I asked nervously.
"Nothing serious--at any rate, that I know of," Mr. Cullen assured me.
"For the last fortnight--ever since Mrs. Bundercombe's arrival, in fact--
Mr. Bundercombe has somehow or other managed to keep away from all his old
associates and out of any sort of mischief.
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