"Kind of observant, aren't you?" he remarked.
"I saw you in Bond Street this morning," I told him, "you and a paper
parcel. You were entering the establishment, I believe, of Mademoiselle
Blanche, whoever she is."
"Small place, London!" Mr. Bundercombe sighed. "Were you--er--alone?"
"I was with Eve," I replied; "but she did not see you and I did not
mention the matter."
"My boy," Mr. Bundercombe decided, "I shall take you wholly into my
confidence. I am engaged in a big affair!" My heart sank.
"I can only pray to Heaven," I said fervently, "that the denouement of
this affair will not take place within the next ten days."
"On the contrary," Mr. Bundercombe answered, leaning back in his chair and
looking at me, with the flat of one hand laid on the table and the palm of
the other on his left knee, "on the contrary," he repeated, "the
denouement is due to-morrow."
"Glad you didn't consider us," I observed gloomily.
Mr. Bundercombe smiled.
"I find myself in this last affair," he remarked airily, "occupying what I
must confess, for me, is a somewhat peculiar position. I am on the side of
the established authorities. I am in the cast-iron position of the man who
falls into line with the law of the land.
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