'They failed to find the formula, though,' she reminded him.
Lavendale, accepting his dismissal, returned to his place, finished his lunch and made his way round to the Milan Mansions. A caretaker was established now in his office in the hall. He was a small and rather melancholy-looking man, who hastily concealed a blackened pipe as Lavendale entered.
'I understand that you have a suite to let,' the latter began, 'upon the third floor?'
The man pulled out a list.
'We have several suites to let, sir,' he replied; 'nothing upon the third floor, though.'
'What about number thirty-two?'
The caretaker shook his head.
'Number thirty-two is let, sir.'
'Are you sure?' Lavendale persisted. 'I called this morning and was allowed to look over it by Mr. Somers-Keyne, who had the keys.'
'It was taken by a young lady just before one o'clock, at our head office,' the man told him. 'With regard to the other suites, sir——'