'Make a fool of myself, very likely,' Lavendale replied. 'I am just working out a theory, that's all. She is going back to his rooms. Anders remains behind, content, and all the world knows that Anders, whether he is her husband or not, is in love with her and furiously jealous. You see, there must be a reason for her little expedition. She is hoping to fetch something.'
'Where are we going?'
'To his rooms,' Lavendale explained. 'Oh! don't look startled, dear. I shall have a very good explanation to offer to Lenwade, even if I break in upon the most ordinary amour.'
They were in Half Moon Street within a few minutes. Just as Lavendale's car slackened speed, Félanie issued from the door of number 25, and, looking neither to the right nor to the left, sprang into a waiting taxicab and drove off. Lavendale leaped out on to the pavement.
'Follow her, Suzanne,' he directed. 'I hope to God she's going straight home! If not, you must find out where she does go. I'll come in a taxi. I must see Lenwade first.'
He whispered a direction to the chauffeur, passed through the door of number 25, rang for an automatic lift and ascended to the second storey. Leaning over the banisters, as the lift stopped, was Lenwade. He gazed at his visitor in amazement.
'What the mischief are you doing here, old fellow?' he asked thickly.
'Whom are you looking for?' Lavendale retorted.
'Madame Félanie,' the other confessed. 'She has gone down to fetch her vanity case from the cab. Can't think why she doesn't come back.'
Lavendale pushed him suddenly back into his room and closed the door.