“What makes you so confident we should find him at home?” Van Bleit asked quickly.
“Because, until I set out to look for you, I was seated on his stoep with him, smoking.”
”—And discussing me?”
“And discussing the letter and its conditions as they concerned you—yes.”
“He keeps late hours if he is out of bed when we get there,” Van Bleit remarked. “It’s after midnight.”
Simmonds, who had been instructed to fetch Van Bleit to the bungalow that night if possible, with difficulty repressed a smile.
“I imagine he does keep late hours,” he said. “The only occasions I have surprised him in bed have been in the daytime. But if he were abed I don’t doubt he would see you. Nevertheless, if you prefer some other time, I am sure it will be equally convenient to him.”
“And if I refuse to go at all?”
“Then, I expect he will drop down on you. You see his instructions are imperative. He has no voice in the matter.”
Van Bleit swung round suddenly and stared in the other’s face.