“Never heard of him,” the visitor declared.
“He is a very rich financier who has recently blossomed out in London,” the secretary said. “One sees him everywhere. He has a good-looking wife, who is playing in the other room.”
“A good-looking wife,” the visitor remarked, thoughtfully. “But, yes! I thank you very much, Mr. Courtledge for showing me round. I will find my friends now.”
He turned away, leaving Courtledge alone, for a minute or two, on the threshold of the card room. The secretary’s attention was riveted upon the table near the wall, and the frown on his face deepened. Just as he was moving off, the Baron de Grost rose and joined him.
“They are playing a little high in here this evening,” the latter remarked quietly.
Courtledge frowned.
“I wish I had been in the club when they started,” he said, gloomily. “My task is all the more difficult now.”
The Baron de Grost looked pensively, for a moment, at the cigarette which he was carrying.
“By the bye, Mr. Courtledge,” he asked, with apparent irrelevance, “what was the name of the tall man with whom you were talking just now?”
“Count von Hern. He was brought in by one of the attaches at the German Embassy.”