How can
we tell what confronted him the day he went down to the hotel desk to
change his rooms and, instead, got into his touring-car and beat the
speed limit to Canada. Whom did he meet in the hotel corridor? A woman
with a perfectly good marriage certificate, or a detective with a
perfectly good warrant? Or did Harry find out that his bride had a devil
of a temper of her own, and that for him marriage was a failure? The
widow is certainly a very charming young woman, but there may be two
sides to this."
"You are a cynic, sir," protested the doctor.
"That may be," growled the reporter, "but I am not a private detective
agency, or a matrimonial bureau, and before I hear myself saying, 'Bless
you, my children!' both of these young people will have to show me why
they should not be kept asunder."
II
On the afternoon of their arrival in London Ford convoyed Mrs. Ashton to
an old-established private hotel in Craven Street.
"Here," he explained, "you will be within a few hundred yards of the
place in which your husband is said to spend his time. I will be living
in the same hotel. If I find him you will know it in ten minutes.
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