“The number of that apartment?” cried Toruma.
The clerk gave the number, forgetting to add that Mrs. Darrin was also there. Nor did the Japanese officers remember that Dave was married.
So, Toruma leading the way, the three filed up the stairs, sought the apartment, and knocked on the door.
Inside, Belle, the lacquer box in her hand, and supposing that it was a servant who had knocked, stepped over to open the door.
And there she stood in the doorway, the lacquer box in her hand, the medallion plainly showing.
The eyes of the three young officers immediately turned toward that priceless heirloom, not a betraying sign came to their faces.
“A thousand pardons, madam,” begged Toruma. “We have knocked at the wrong door. We sought the apartment of Mr. Darrin.”
“Then you have found the right door,” smiled Belle. “I am Mrs. Darrin. Unfortunately, my husband is out.”
“We were wrongly informed that he had returned,” apologized Toruma, bowing low. “We crave a thousand pardons, and hasten to withdraw.”
“Shall I tell Mr. Darrin who called?” asked Belle.