“I forgot you’d been abroad for so long. The truth is, I suppose we’ve both dropped out of things. It’s dawning on me that I’ve turned into a regular country cousin. I’m not going straight back to my hotel, by the way. I’ve got a parcel to leave near Victoria. Is that out of your way?”
“Not a bit. The further, the better.”
They walked on, chatting quietly. Their conversation ranged over a wide field and Fayre discovered that, though she was pleased to call herself a country cousin, she had not by any means lost touch with the outside world, for she was a voracious reader and had gathered a store of homely wisdom in the course of her quiet life. The time passed so pleasantly that he was surprised when he found himself at the corner of Grosvenor Place, facing Victoria Station.
“Where do we go now?” he asked idly.
Her answer took his breath away.
“I’m making for some flats behind the Cathedral. Brackley Mansions, they’re called.”
Gregg’s headquarters in London! They crossed the road in silence, Fayre busily engaged in assuring himself that there was nothing unusual in such coincidences.
“If you’re really so keen on exercise and are not in a hurry we might stroll on to my hotel,” pursued Miss Allen. “I’m only leaving this parcel. I can’t offer you tea to-day, as I’m entertaining a dull batch of relations, but I shall be glad of your company to the door.”
She took a small, flat package out of her bag and Fayre, glancing at it involuntarily, could not help seeing Dr. Gregg’s name written across it in a clear, bold script, the type of handwriting he would have expected from Miss Allen.
They left the parcel with the porter and then strolled on to Miss Allen’s hotel. Fayre’s conversation was as intelligent as could be expected in the circumstances, but it was somewhat mechanical, for his mind was wrestling busily with this new problem. Until now it had not occurred to him to connect Miss Allen’s visit to London with that of Gregg, but now he began to wonder. He had parted from her and was on his way back to his club when the probable explanation dawned on him. Did the parcel she had just left for Gregg contain some of the letters she had “disposed of”? It seemed more than likely. If so, Fayre would have given a good deal for a glance at the contents of the packet.