Presently he rose and got the thing, not until he touched it quite
persuaded he was not the victim of an optical hallucination.
A square envelope of creamy paper, it was superscribed simply in a hand
strange to him, _Anthony Ember, Esq_., with the address of his apartment
house.
Tearing the envelope he found within a double sheet of plain notepaper
bearing a message of five words penned hastily:
"_Au Printemps_--
"_one o'clock_--
"_Please_!"
Nothing else, not another word or pen-scratch....
Opening the door Lanyard hailed the hall-attendant, a sleepy and not
over-intelligent negro.
"When did this come for me?"
"'Bout anour ago, Mistuh Embuh."
"Who brought it?"
"A messenger boy done fotch it, suh--look lak th' same boy."
"What same boy?"
"Same as come in when you do, 'bout 'leven o'clock--remembuh?"
Lanyard nodded, recalling that on his way up the street from Sixth Avenue
he had been subconsciously irritated by the shrill, untuneful whistling of
a loutish youth in Western Union uniform, who had followed him into the
house and become engaged in some minor altercation with the attendants
while Lanyard was unlocking the door to his apartment.
Pages:
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292