Lavendale laughed dryly.
'"Won't you walk into my parlour?"' he quoted mockingly. 'No, thank you, Mr. Kessner! You know where we stand now. Let me give you a word of warning. London isn't New York. A very little of this sort of thing and you'll find the hand of a law that can't be bought or bribed or evaded in any way, tapping upon your shoulders. You understand?'
Mr. Kessner yawned.
'You are a foolish young man,' he said, 'and you've been reading a little too much modern fiction.'
He slammed the door and Lavendale descended to the street. The courtyard was empty.
'The car didn't wait for me, I suppose?' he inquired of the porter.
'The fellow drove off directly you went upstairs, sir. I shouted after him but he took no notice. Shall I get you a taxi, sir?'
Lavendale fumbled in his pocket, found a cigarette and lit it.
'Thank you,' he replied, 'I think I'll walk.'