We were out in the street again in a few moments. I was feeling a little bewildered.
"These things," I said, "are arranged pretty quickly over here."
Guest nodded.
"Mr. Magg," he said, "is known as well in Europe as in New York. There is no one else like him. He has been offered retainers from the Secret Service of every country in Europe, but he prefers to work on his own. He has over a hundred assistants, and yet you never meet a soul in his office…."
When we returned there in a couple of hours' time, I thought, for a moment, that I was looking into a mirror.
A man of my own height, complexion and general appearance was standing by the side of Magg's desk. The latter looked backwards and forwards rapidly from me to my double.
"Very fair," he remarked. "Eyebrows a little deeper, and you must note the walk, George. Now please step into the next room and change clothes with this gentleman, Mr. Courage."
I did as I was told. The next room I found was a most delightfully furnished sitting-room, with a chair-bedstead in the corner, and a dressing-room and bathroom opening out from it.
"You don't wear an eyeglass, Mr. Courage?" my companion asked.
I shook my head.