"Did you tell her?" Wrayson asked.
"Not I!" she answered. "I didn't want a scene there, and besides, it's your little show, not mine. I told her that I felt sure I recognized him, and that if she would be in the same place at nine o'clock a week from that night, I could send some one whom I thought would be able to tell her about her friend. That was last Thursday. You want to be just outside the refreshment-room at nine o'clock to-morrow night, and you can't mistake her. She looks as though she'd blown in from an A B C shop."
Wrayson possessed himself of her hand for a moment in an impulse of apparent gallantry. Something which rustled pleasantly was instantly and safely transferred to the metal purse which hung from her waistband.
"You will allow me?" he murmured.
"Rather," she answered, with a little laugh. "What a stroke of luck it was meeting you here! Flo and I were both stony. We hadn't a sovereign between us when we'd paid for our tickets."
"Have you seen anything of Barnes' brother?" he asked.
"Once or twice at the Alhambra," she answered.
"He was wearing his brother's clothes, but he looked pretty dicky."
"You didn't mention this young woman to him, I suppose?" he asked.
She shook her head.