The Greek had now recovered his self-possession and rose.
“You are a very clever man, Mr. Meredith—I think that is your name?”
“That is my name,” said T. X. calmly. “There has been, no need for me to change it as often as you have found the necessity.”
He saw the fire blazing in the other's eyes and knew that his shot had gone home.
“I am afraid I must go,” said Kara. “I came here intending to see Mrs. Lexman, and I had no idea that I should meet a policeman.”
“My dear Mr. Kara,” said T. X., rising and lighting a cigarette, “you will go through life enduring that unhappy experience.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I say. You will always be expecting to meet one person, and meeting another, and unless you are very fortunate indeed, that other will always be a policeman.”
His eyes twinkled for he had recovered from the gust of anger which had swept through him.
“There are two pieces of evidence I require to save Mr. Lexman from very serious trouble,” he said, “the first of these is the letter which was burnt, as you know.”