“Nonsense,” I laughed, “a lot of reporters have got themselves a few interviews, and filled the paper with them. I don’t believe a thing has happened since yesterday. Everyone is waiting to see what his neighbor is going to do about it.”
“I bow to your superior knowledge,” John laughed, “let’s drink the coffee.”
“I have discovered something,” I said, as we poured it out. “There is a woman in the next room.”
“The Countess Waldek?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “the wall is too thick to tell, but it is very probable.”
“We ought to be able to communicate with her if it is,” John began to be interested.
“We might dig a hole in the wall,” I suggested.
“Monte Cristo!” he laughed. “That takes too long. I know an easier way. Got a long piece of string?”
“No,” I said. “Why should I have? I don’t save string.”
“Must have a long cord,” he said, fussing in one of his bags. I felt in my pockets hopelessly. I knew quite well I had no string.