"Just near it, sir."
And Edward, giving himself no time for second thoughts, mounted to the top.
CHAPTER XXIX
BLOOMSBURY
Edward entered the little vestibule of the select Bloomsbury hotel, and crossing to the office window, behind which sat a sleepy-looking book-keeper, asked for an envelope. Then taking a card from his pocket he scribbled a few words on it and enclosing it requested that it be taken up to Mrs. Povey.
A few minutes later he was following an attendant up the broad flight of carpeted stairs. It was then five minutes past ten by the clock which stood ticking sonorously in a corner of the landing.
*****
At twenty minutes to eleven Edward Povey descended the stairs and, walking quickly through the vestibule, emerged into Russell Square. There were but few people about, and no one seemed to notice the little figure which stood in indecision on the curb. Even had they done so it would have taken a student of human physiognomy of no mean order to read what was written on Edward's face. Some would have said that there was an expression of sorrow behind the eyes, others would have imagined a suggestion of a smile at the corners of the mouth, and on the whole countenance a look of joyful relief.
For some moments he stood, gazing out across the road at the lights of the Hotel Russell, and at the cabs and taxis that were drawing up before it. Then he turned with a little sigh, and made his way down Southampton Row, and along past the Museum into the glare of light at the end of the Tottenham Court Road. Here the sight of the restaurants reminded him that it was mid-day when he had taken his last meal. With the thought he crossed the road and walked up Oxford Street to Frascati's.