But this ambiguous remark failed of its effect, for Neil, whose master had told him that in this affair he was not Van Hupfeldt but Strauss, intervened with the pert words: “Begging your pardon, but I am Strauss.”
However, this short way of explaining that he was there on behalf of Strauss was promptly misunderstood by Jenny, who looked with disdain at the valet, saying: “You are not Mr. Strauss!”
“Of course he isn’t,” said David, quickly. “How dare you, sir, address this lady? Come right away, will you? Come, now. Let’s jump into this cab.”
“Who are you? I don’t even know you!” cried the perplexed Jenny.
“I didn’t say I was Mr. Strauss himself,” began Neil.
“Yes, you did say so,” said Jenny, “and it isn’t the truth, for I know Mr. Strauss very well, and neither of you isn’t going to get over me, so you know!”
“Don’t you see,” suggested David, his wits all at work, “that one of us must be true, and as you are aware that he is false—”
“What is all this about?” demanded Jenny. “I have no business with either of you. Just tell me the way to Hanover Square, please, and let me go about my business.”
“That’s just why I’m here, to show you the way,” said Neil. “I dunno why this gentleman takes it upon himself—”