“And how greatly it would differ from the accepted versions,” laughed Medenham.
“Do we never know the truth, then?”
“Oh, yes, if we are actually mixed up in some affair of worldwide importance, but that is precisely the reason why the actors remain dumb.”
Oddly enough, this was the first of Medenham’s utterances that Mrs. Devar approved of.
“Evidently you have moved in high society, Fitzroy,” she chimed in.
“Yes, madam,” he said. “More than once, when in a hurry, I have run madly through Mayfair.”
“Oh, nonsense!” she cried, resenting the studied civility of the “madam” and ruffled by the quip, “you speak of Mayfair, yet I don’t suppose you really know where it is.”
“I shall never forget where Down Street is, I assure you,” he said cheerfully.
“And pray, why Down Street in particular?”
“Because that is where I met Simmonds, last Wednesday, and arranged to take on his job.”