The little bounder then intimated that when he saw Miss Thesiger her people were less conspicuous than Jevons.
I replied that that was probably the reason why they'd asked me to join them when I'd seen Ghent.
Withers advised me to go on seeing Ghent if I wanted to be popular. They—Jevons and Miss Thesiger—didn't look at all as if they wanted to be seen, much less joined.
He had the air of knowing a good deal more than he cared to tell me; but then he always had that air; you may say he lived on it.
I asked him presently (in a suitable context) whether he was going back soon; and to my relief I learned that he had only just come out—for his paper—and was going on into Germany through Brussels. He wouldn't be back in England for another three weeks or more.
He wouldn't be back, I reflected, to tell what he knew or what he didn't know, till Reggie Thesiger had sailed.
I got rid of the little beast on the first likely pretext, having dealt with him so urbanely that he couldn't possibly think he had told me anything I saw reason to believe and therefore to resent.
Then I went back to Bruges.
This time my quest was fairly easy. I didn't know what hotel Jevons was staying in; but I did know the sort of hotel that Withers stayed in when he was travelling for his paper. My errand was narrowed down to three or four (good, but not too good), and the first I struck in the Market-Place was Withers's hotel. It was one of those that three days ago had known nothing of Jevons.
I inquired this time for Withers and was told that he had left that morning. I engaged a room and strolled out into the Market-Place. I visited the Cathedral, the Belfry, and the Béguinage, in the hope of coming suddenly across Viola and Jevons.