She was very silent in the car that drove them to the Athenæum and Tab felt a little of the gloom which had suddenly come into their festivity.
“Yeh Ling is a creepy sort of fellow, isn’t he?” he said.
“Yes, I suppose he is,” was her reply and that was all she said.
Ten minutes later she was sitting in a box, intent upon a stage which she had once adorned and seemingly oblivious to everything except the play. Tab decided that she was a little temperamental and loved her for it.
Going out to smoke between the first two acts (she insisted upon his going) he saw Carver standing by a tape machine in the vestibule of the theatre. His attention was concentrated on a very prose account of a yacht race which was coming through, but he saw Tab out of the corner of his eye and signalled him.
“I am going home with you tonight,” he said surprisingly. “What time will you leave Miss Ardfern?”
“I am seeing her to her hotel immediately after the show.”
“You are not going to supper anywhere?” asked the other carelessly.
“No,” said Tab, “why do you ask?”
“Then I will be waiting at the Central Hotel for you. I wish to see you about a nephew of mine who wants to become a newspaper reporter. Perhaps you can give me a few hints.”