“Yes,” she said, “a lady and her brother, rather more than three weeks ago; they were here for two nights, on the first floor, in Rooms B and D. Let me see. February the 20th and 21st, it was. They came in on the Palenque from San Agostino. They were going to stop somewhere here, he said. He came in for letters a day or two after they left the hotel.”
Sard thanked her, turned to the 20th February and saw the names:
| Hilary Kingsborough | } | Br. subjects, in trans. |
| Margarita Kingsborough | } |
written by the man in what is called a Civil Service hand. “Here they are,” he said. “Do you happen to know where they went when they left?”
The woman turned up a register. “No,” she said. “They breakfasted here on the 22nd, and then left the hotel. I’m not here in the mornings, but he said they were going to stop here for a little. They were taking a furnished flat, the upstairs maid thought.”
“Do you happen to know what he is doing here?”
“Writing something for some examination, so someone said. He was a very young gentleman.”
“What was she like?”
“A very nice lady.”
“Could your colleague, who saw them go, tell me where they went, when they left here? I want to give them a message.”