“Excellent. Mr. White has a keen nose for false scents. I have already told him to let my affairs alone. He means no harm.”
But the reference to a “lydy in a keb” had suggested an immediate plan of action to the barrister. He would call to see Mrs. Hillmer. He wrote a note asking her if he might come to tea that afternoon, and sent it by a boy messenger.
In return he received this answer.
“Mrs. Hillmer will be at home at four o’clock if Mr. Bruce cares to call then.”
“Whew!” he whistled. “What’s in the wind there? This is an uncommonly stiff invitation. That rascal White has upset her, I’ll be bound. I must choke him off somehow. Suppose he were to find that damaged bracket! He would have Mensmore under trial at the Old Bailey in double-quick time. After I leave Mrs. Hillmer I must visit No. 12 again, and carry off that pair of brackets before White discovers them, as he will haunt the place in future.”
Bruce had a set of skeleton keys in his possession.
They were in his pocket when he approached Raleigh Mansions at the appointed hour.
The same trim maid opened the door for him and ushered him into the drawing-room. On the occasion of his first visit he was taken to the dining-room. It was a small matter, but Bruce paid heed to such.
Mrs. Hillmer appeared, very stately and undemonstrative. She greeted him coldly, seated herself at a distance, and said, in a cold, well-controlled voice:
“I did not expect the honor of another visit from you, Mr. Bruce.”