“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “It’s too bad; I was quite ready to call for the—you understand—and save you the trouble of the trip down here. But I’m glad you’ve had no more unpleasant adventure.”
“The necklace is safe,” the girl’s voice told him with the same deadly precision of utterance.
“Oh, yes; I assumed that. And I may call for it?”
“If you please—today at noon. I am so tired I am afraid I shan’t get up before noon.”
“That’ll be quite convenient to me, thank you,” he assured her. “But where are you stopping?”
There fell a brief pause. Then she said something indistinguishable.
“Yes?” he said. “Beg pardon—I didn’t get that. A little louder please, Miss Searle.”
“The St. Regis.”
“Where?” he repeated in surprise.
“The St. Regis. I am here with Mrs. Ilkington—her guest. Good night, Mr. Staff.”