"What now?"
"The Lord Mayor of London makes waiters signal on his door before he'll let them in. Then he begins asking questions about the people on either side of him. To cap the climax, he asked about the woman who had her head cut off in 1793."
"What? Oh yes, I see; those names on the register. Well?"
"Something fishy. The woman just surrendered her key and waltzed out."
"Gone?"
"With last year's cabbages."
"Maybe it's an elopement," suggested the manager, hopefully. Elopements were first-rate advertisements.
"Nix on the elopement. The real article gets married before they come to a hotel like the Watkins. She went up to the room I gave her and came down again. No complaints. Just surrendered the key and faded."
"Didn't ask any questions about the man?"
"Nope. There's where the mystery comes in. Mind, we'll have a robbery or a murder on our hands before morning."