“Bother!”
“But it does mean so much, the tracing of this bill.”
“Shall we go to see Walsh?” he asked.
“I suppose so.” She sighed. Apparently she was discouraged. “But even if he gives the information, it may be too late. The Japanese have the directions.”
“But perhaps they will not be able to make them out,” he suggested.
She smiled. “You don’t know the Japanese,” she said. “They are abominably clever at such things. I will venture that they are already on their way to the hiding-place.”
“But even if the papers are in the pocket of one of them, it may be possible to steal them back.”
“Hardly.” She arose. “I fear that the one chance is the mere possibility that Maku couldn’t read the directions. Then, if Walsh will speak out——”
“Now, let me say something,” he said. “My name is Robert Orme. Apparently we have common friends in the Wallinghams. When I first saw you this afternoon, I felt that I might have a right to your acquaintance—a social right, if you like; a sympathetic right, I trust.”
He held out his hand. She took it frankly, and the friendly pressure of her fine, firm palm sent the blood tingling through him.