“I told you—the day after she returned from Bristol. It was at Cacciola’s, as it happened, and she came on here to you afterwards. I came with her as far as the lift, but she’d scarcely speak to me, though why I don’t know to this moment.”
He looked so utterly forlorn and lugubrious that Grace had to smile, while she rapidly reviewed the situation and recalled her own vague suspicions.
“You say you last saw her at Cacciola’s,” she mused. “What happened there?”
“Nothing that I know of,” he asserted earnestly. “They were singing—or Boris was—when I got there, and I didn’t see Winnie at first; she was sitting in a dark corner.”
“H’m! And Miss Maddelena was there?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Does Winnie know what you’ve just told me—about Mr. Melikoff and Maddelena?”
“I don’t know—how should I? I’ve told you I haven’t seen her since. What’s that got to do with it, anyhow?”
“Quite a lot, perhaps. Look here, Austin, I’ll be quite frank with you. When I saw you and Miss Maddelena—if it was she—last week, until I recognized you I really thought you were—well, just a pair of sweethearts. You really appeared to be on such very confidential terms!”