“To the cab?” Harleston inquired.
“No, to me.”
“What were the articles?”
“A sealed envelope containing a message in cipher.”
“Haven’t you forgotten something?”
“Oh, you may keep the roses, Mr. Harleston, for your reward!” she laughed.
She had not missed the handkerchief, or else she thought it of no consequence.
“Assuming, for the moment, that I have the articles in question, how are they to be gotten to you?”
“By the messenger, I shall send.”
“Will you send yourself?”