She smiled and waved her hand.
“You will tell him, please,” she directed, “to drive to Bond Street.”
Laverick re-entered his office, pausing for a minute to give his clerk instructions for the purchase of stocks for Mademoiselle Idiale. He had scarcely reached his own room when he was told that Mr. James Shepherd wished to speak to him for a moment upon the telephone. He took up the receiver.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“It is Shepherd,” was the answer. “Is that Mr. Laverick?”
“Yes!”
“You were outside the restaurant here a few minutes ago,” Shepherd continued. “You had with you a lady—a young, tall lady with a veil.”
“That’s right,” Laverick admitted. “What about her?”
“One of the two men who watch always here was reading the paper in the window,” Shepherd went on hoarsely. “He saw her with you and I heard him mutter something as though he had received a shock. He dropped his glass and his paper. He watched you every second of the time you were there until you had disappeared. Then he, too, put on his hat and went out.”
“Anything else?”