“Indirectly, then? Answer me, please.”
“I am afraid,” he admitted frankly, “that in some corner of the world, if not in this country, you might whisper a word, a scoffing or an angry sentence, which would make people wonder what grudge you had against a simple Norfolk baronet. I would not like that word to be spoken in the presence of any one who knew your history and realised the rather amazing likeness between Sir Everard Dominey and Baron Leopold Von Ragastein.”
“I see,” Stephanie murmured, a faint smile parting her lips. “Well, Mr. Seaman, I do not think that you need have many fears. What I shall carry away with me in my heart is not for you or any man to know. In a few days I shall leave this country.”
“You are going back to Berlin—to Hungary?”
She shook her head, beckoned her maid to open the door, and held out her hand in token of dismissal.
“I am going to take a sea voyage,” she announced. “I shall go to Africa.”
The morrow was a day of mild surprises. Eddy Pelham's empty place was the first to attract notice, towards the end of breakfast time.
“Where's the pink and white immaculate?” the Right Honourable gentleman asked. “I miss my morning wonder as to how he tied his tie.”
“Gone,” Dominey replied, looking round from the sideboard.
“Gone?” every one repeated.