A knock sounded on the door, and Mr. Slade walked in. Helen instantly steeled herself for an ordeal. Slade, she had already guessed, was Mr. Shei’s right-hand man. He was smiling affably, but something told her that her life depended on the outcome of the interview.
“I trust you had a restful night, Miss Hardwick?” he suavely inquired after seating himself.
“I slept like a top,” Helen assured him with a smile that belied her real emotion. “You see, I was all fagged out when I retired. I have a faint recollection that I was a bit hysterical, too. I suppose it was on account of that affair at the Thelma Theater the other night. I received quite a shock.”
“Naturally,” assented Slade, regarding her with a mingling of admiration and doubt. “Yes, you seemed somewhat upset last night. You probably have no recollection of it, but you fainted completely away, and one of the maids put you to bed after the physician in attendance upon Miss Neville had administered a sedative. I don’t suppose you remember any of that?”
“It’s all news to me,” declared Helen innocently. “I’m sorry to have been so much trouble.”
Slade made a deprecatory gesture. He edged his chair a little closer to the small table at which Helen was seated. She felt his cold gaze searching her face, and to hide her confusion she began tracing figures in the dust that had accumulated on the surface of the table.
“Last night we were discussing The Gray Phantom,” Slade remarked, and she started a trifle at the mention of the name. “I regret I can give you no inkling as to his whereabouts. I suppose you are very anxious to find him?”
“Rather.”
“Isn’t it strange that he did not give you his new address?”
“He may have written and the letter gone astray,” suggested Helen. A flush had tinged the healthy tan of her cheeks the moment Slade introduced the subject of The Gray Phantom. Looking down at the table, she noticed confusedly that her hand had been influenced by the thoughts that were uppermost in her mind. In the thin layer of dust she had absently traced The Gray Phantom’s initials. It was a habit of hers, cultivated since childhood, to sketch figures and designs on whatever surface was handy, and she had often told herself she must overcome it.