“Good Heavens! where have you been the last few days; since you were here?”
“I told you just now that I returned to the city this midday, to see the last of my poor friend Ladislas. He was buried about the same time as Bremenhof. Ladislas’ funeral was not nearly so imposing a ceremony, but there was vastly more genuine grief.”
“Oh, nobody liked Bremenhof as a man; but that so high an official should have fallen in such a way! But you—where were you on Monday?”
“I stayed at the Vladimir on Sunday night and left Warsaw on Monday evening.”
“And all that day?” he asked with a very sharp look.
“Oh, I was moving about in different parts of the city.”
“Did you see that fight in the street of St. Gregory?”
“Yes, amongst other things.”
“Do you mean you know what took Bremenhof there?”
I nodded. “He was after me as a matter of fact. It’s a pretty bad tangle, but if you haven’t got your official ears open, I’ll tell you.” I told him enough to make the matter clear.