“You cowardly brute!” he exclaimed. “You come of the breed of men who shoot from behind. If ever I lay my hands upon you again, you’ll be lucky if you live to whimper about it.”
He left the room and rang for the lift. He saw no trace of any servants in the hall, nor heard any sound of any one moving. From Dover Street he drove straight to Zoe’s house. Keeping the cab waiting, he knocked at the door. She opened it herself at once, and her eyes glowed with pleasure.
“How delightful!” she cried. “Please come in. Have you come to take me to the theatre?”
He followed her into the parlor and closed the door behind them.
“Zoe,” he said, “I am going to ask you a favor.”
“Me a favor?” she repeated. “I think you know how happy it will make me if there is anything—anything at all in the world that I could do.”
“A week ago,” Laverick continued, “I was an honest but not very successful stockbroker, with a natural longing for adventures which never came my way. Since then things have altered. I have stumbled in upon the most curious little chain of happenings which ever became entwined with the life of a commonplace being like myself. The net result, for the moment, is this. Every one is trying to steal from me a certain document which I have in my pocket. I want to hide it for the night. I cannot go to the police, it is too late to go back to Chancery Lane, and I have an instinctive feeling that my flat is absolutely at the mercy of my enemies. May I hide my document in your room? I do not believe for a moment that any one would think of searching here.”
“Of course you may,” she answered. “But listen. Can you see out into the street without moving very much?”
He turned his head. He had been standing with his back to the window, and Zoe had been facing it.