"None!"
"Are you sure?" I persisted. "Please ask at the office."
The porter left me for a moment, but returned shaking his head.
"Mr. Parker said there would be no messages or letters, and accordingly he left no address."
I turned slowly away. The hall porter followed me. He was drawing something from his waistcoat pocket.
"I wouldn't do a thing," he declared, "to get Mr. Parker into any trouble —for a nicer, freer-handed gentleman never came inside the hotel; but I don't know as there's much harm in showing you this, being as you're a friend. I picked it up in the sitting room after they'd gone."
He held out a cablegram. Before I realized what I was doing, I had read it. It was handed in at New York:
"Look out! H——sailed last Saturday!"
"Pretty badly scared of H——he was!" the hall porter remarked. "Ten minutes after that cablegram came they were hard at it, packing."
I gave the man a tip and drove back to my rooms, where I spent a restless morning, then lunched at my club and returned to the Milan afterward, only in the hope that I might find there a note or a message. There was nothing, however. Just as I was starting to go out the telephone bell rang. I took up the receiver. It was Eve's voice.