"A nice quiet part of the hotel this," my guide remarked, glancing towards me.
"Very!" I answered dryly.
"A man might be hidden here very securely," he added.
"I can well believe it," I assented.
He knocked softly at the third door on the left. A woman's voice answered him. A moment later, the door was opened by a nurse in plain hospital dress.
"Good evening, nurse!" my companion said cheerfully. "This gentleman would like to see Mr. Guest! Is he awake?"
The nurse opened the door a little wider, which I took for an invitation to enter. She closed it softly behind me. My guide remained outside.
The room was a very small one, and furnished after the usual hotel fashion. The only light burning was a heavily-shaded electric lamp, placed by the bedside. The nurse raised it a little, and looked down upon the man who lay there motionless.
"He is asleep," she remarked. "It is time he took his medicine. I must wake him!"
She spoke with a pronounced foreign accent. Her fair hair and stolid features left me little doubt as to her nationality. I was conscious of a strong and instinctive dislike to her from the moment I heard her speak and watched her bending over the bed. I think that her face was one of the most unsympathetic which I had ever seen.