Of this I
feel quite sure."
A short and ironical grunt answered her. Mr. Black was not always
the pink of politeness even in the presence of ladies.
"Most interesting," he commented sarcastically. "The squeak you
heard was probably the protest of the bed you were reclining on
against such a misuse of the opportunities it offered you. A dream
listened to as evidence in this office! You must have a woman's
idea of the value of my time."
Flushing with discomfiture, she attempted to apologise, when he
cut her short. "Nevertheless, you shall see the stick if it is
still to be found. I will take you to Police Headquarters if you
will go heavily veiled. We don't want any recognition of you there
YET."
"You will take me--"
"The fact that I never go there may make my visit not unwelcome.
I'll do it; yes, I'll do it."
"Mr. Black, you are very good. How soon--"
"Now," he announced, jumping up to get his hat. "A woman who can
take up a man's time, with poetry and dreams, might as well have
the whole afternoon. Are you ready? Shall we go?"
All alacrity, in spite of the irony of his bow and smile, he stood
at the door waiting for her to follow him. This she did slowly and
with manifest hesitation. She did not understand the man. People
often said of her that she did not understand her own charm.
There was one little fact of which Mr. Black was ignorant;--that
the police had had their eye on the veiled lady at Claymore Inn
for several days now and knew who his companion was the instant
they stepped into Headquarters.
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