“Who’s Mr. Superbus?”
“He’s the detective I told you about; the man that is watching for Double Dan.”
Bobbie whistled: it was an exasperating trick of his.
“Double Dan? By Jove! I didn’t think of him. Gordon, you’re taking a risk. Is there any money in the house?”
“I told you.”
“You keep telling me you’ve told me things. I think your mind is wandering.”
“There’s fifty thousand dollars in the safe. Diana’s looking after it. The combination word is ‘Telma’—I told her, and I might as well tell you. It is for Tilmet, who’s calling on Sunday, but Diana will look after that.”
“Double Dan,” repeated Bobbie softly. “And you’re the very bird he could impersonate to the life! Sometimes I do it myself unconsciously. A little pomp, a little strut, a little preciousness of speech——”
Gordon waved him out of the room. He had reached the limit of his patience.
Diana was out when he came down, and he was not sorry. Also, the telephone receiver was on the table; he replaced it in the hook.