Nick smiled somewhat significantly when the Englishman had finished. He glanced at the photograph on the mantel, remarking agreeably:
“Well, well, Waldmere, you were hard hit indeed by the pretty American girl. In view of the incentive to many of our international marriages, your conduct is really quite refreshing. I rather like you for it. That is a photograph of Lady Waldmere, I infer.”
“Yes, taken in London,” bowed Waldmere, evidently deeply pleased with the detective’s comments.
“A very beautiful girl, indeed.”
“She jolly well is, Mr. Carter, and worthy of——”
“Of all your devotion, Waldmere, no doubt,” Nick familiarly interrupted. “But we must not drift away from the matter. We must get onto our job and stick to it, or valuable time may be lost.”
“I agree with you.”
“None of the circumstances you have stated seem to present, on the surface at least, any reasonable explanation of what has occurred, nor any consistent motive for felonious designs upon her,” Nick added. “Unless she soon returns, nevertheless, there can be no doubt that she is a victim of knavery of some kind, that does not appear on the surface. Let me ask you a few questions. I then may hit upon some theory to fit the case.”
“That’s a ripping good idea, old top,” Lord Waldmere nodded. “Come on with them.”
“To begin with, then, has your wife many acquaintances here in town?”