“That’s all. If there was anything else I could suggest——”
Titherington picked up his pencil again.
“I’ll try Selby-Harrison,” he said, “and if he knows the name——”
“If he doesn’t, get him to wire to his son for it. He certainly knows.”
“I will.”
“I needn’t tell you,” I added, “that the telegram must be cautiously worded.”
“What do you mean?”
“Merely that if Selby-Harrison, the son, suspects that you and the father want to worry Hilda or Miss Beresford in any way he’ll lie low and not answer the telegram. He’s on the committee of the A.S.P.L., so of course he won’t want the work of the society to be interfered with.”
“If he doesn’t answer, I’ll go up to Dublin to-night and drag it out of the young pup by force. It’ll be a comfort anyhow to be dealing with somebody I can kick. These girls are the very devil.”
“No. 175 Trinity College is the address,” I said. “J is the initial. If he’s not in his rooms when you call just ask where the 3rd A. happens to be playing.”