“Your directness, dear lady, moves me to admiration,” Lessingham assured her. “I am here to ask a trifling favour in return for those which I have rendered and those which I may yet render to your brother.”
“And that favour?”
Their visitor looked down at his torn attire.
“A suit of your brother's clothes,” he replied, “and a room in which to change. The disposal of these rags I may leave, I presume, to your ingenuity.”
“Anything else?”
“It is my wish,” he continued, “to remain in this neighbourhood for a short time—perhaps a fortnight and perhaps a month. I should value your introduction to the hotel here, and the extension of such hospitality as may seem fitting to you, under the circumstances.”
“As Mr. Hamar Lessingham?”
“Beyond a doubt.”
There was a moment's silence. Philippa's face had become almost stony. She took a step towards the telephone. Lessingham, however, held out his hand.
“Your purpose?” he enquired.