“No, no, nothing of that kind. It is not even suspected.”
“Nor will I be seen,” Graff said confidently. “I’ll make sure of that, and have guarded against other contingencies. Toby is disguised. His car bears a false number. None will learn of our rendezvous, nor even suspect it. Now, Dorson, have you brought the invitations?”
“Yes, two of them,” said Dorson, producing two sealed envelopes and placing them on the table.
“Good!” Graff seized them and put them in his pocket. “From whom did you get them?”
“I stole them from those with which my aunt, Mrs. Thurlow, was supplied to dispose of,” replied Dorson. “She is one of the sponsors for the affair, and that was the only way to get them without disclosing the names of the persons who are to use them. No one will be admitted without a card bearing his name. It’s an exclusive affair. Fictitious names can be inscribed on these.”
“Capital!” Graff nodded, smiling maliciously. “What if your aunt misses them?”
“She will think she mislaid them, and can easily explain to the managers. Her word is good.”
“None better,” Graff dryly admitted.
“What more must be done?” Dorson questioned.
“Take my final instructions.” Professor Graff drew nearer the table and fixed his penetrating eyes on those of his confederate. “You are in the social swim, Dorson, and can execute them without incurring the slightest suspicion.”