“You do not object to my visiting Madam Guiscardini?”
“I should be rejoiced if you undertook the unpleasant task, were it only to hear what she has to say. It would be a very different matter bullying a fellow like Gilardoni, and tackling a practised English lawyer like yourself.”
“I should think so. Where is she to be found?”
“When I called at her house on Monday, I was informed that madam had gone to Paris, and nobody knew when she would return. On consulting the newspapers, however, I found she was advertised to appear on Friday night——”
“To-morrow evening?”
“Yes. I have been told that she prides herself on never disappointing the public, and that she has never failed once since her first appearance to perform on the nights for which she is announced. Her health is excellent, and she is passionately devoted to her art.”
“Then, if I find she refuses to see me at her house——By the way, where does she live?”
“She did live in Porchester Square; but may change on her return, by way of giving a little trouble to those who may want to see her when it does not suit her to be visited. But here is the address.”
He scribbled down the number and name of the square on the back of one of his own cards.
“Have you—did you—that is to say—I mean, has any explanation passed between you and Miss Turquand?” inquired Frank Amberley, with some embarrassment.