"Come to my rooms in Orchard Street," he said—"No. 12. I will walk on the other side of the road."
The distance was but a few dozen yards, and three minutes later the two were in the sitting room, which overlooked the street. Geoffrey pointed to a seat, and waited for the other to open the conversation.
"I repeat," said the doctor, "that your amendment of our plan was reasonable, for you have little reason to trust me."
"It seems to me so," said Geoffrey. "I thought it wise to take that and other precautions. But it was you who asked for this interview. Kindly tell me what you have to say."
"It is told in two words," said Dr. Armytage. "Your friend Lord Vail has, by almost a miracle of luck, escaped from three well-devised schemes against his life. Thrice has Mr. Francis failed. We can not expect such luck to continue."
Not a muscle of Geoffrey's face moved.
"You mean he will make another attempt," he said.
"He will certainly make another attempt."
Geoffrey's hands were playing with a box of cigarettes on the table, opening and shutting the lid in a careful and purposeless manner.
"Here, smoke," he said, "and give me a minute to think."