“I don’t know,” he said at last.
“Have people never been here to inquire before?” I asked the Tommy.
“Lots,” he replied cheerfully. “Things have been shifted round a bit lately. I was in armoured cars before. Wait here.” He disappeared from my sight into Room 11. I propped up a wall and waited.
Presently the door of No. 11 opened cautiously, and a pair of eyes stared at me.
“Come in here,” ordered the owner of the eyes mysteriously, as soon as he had made up his mind that I was not dangerous.
It was a medium-sized room filled with photographs. There were photographs all over the walls, all over the table, all over the chairs. The Tommy withdrew.
The people in attendance upon the photographs, both male and female, stared at me curiously.
“Fill this up,” said my mysterious acquaintance. He put a form before me in secretive fashion.
“Haven’t I filled up enough before?” I asked, looking sadly at the slips in his hand. I dipped the pen in the ink, and prepared to write again.
The man leaned over my shoulder confidentially. “You’ve come to sign on as a woman searcher?”