“No, sir, Mr. Selsbury is not in to-day.”
Gordon rang off without disclosing his identity, and tried Bobbie’s lodgings in Half Moon Street, with no better success. He was wasting valuable time, he realised, and Bobbie could wait. He put on the receiver and stood up, stretching himself, with an easy, happy, home-coming smile. Yes, Diana would be surprised.
He crossed the room to the hall. His hand was on the handle when, glancing round, he saw the curtain which hid the door into the courtyard move and billow. He had left the door open, he thought, and was on the point of returning to close it, when a hand came round the edge of the curtain, and he stood, frozen to the spot. Again the draperies moved, and a woman came into view. It was Heloise!
Gordon did not believe the evidence of his eyes. She was some vision conjured up by an overheated brain, a symptom of disordered nerves.
“You are not real,” he said dully. “Avaunt!”
“Gordon!”
The outstretched hands, the plea in her eyes. Gordon Selsbury stood with his back to the door.
“How did you come here?” he croaked.
“Through the garden gate—the way you came.... I followed you. Gordon, he is furious! You must protect me.”
He could only stare at her owlishly.