“You mean into your room?”
“That’s what. Let him serve the couple, if they order anything, but you make sure that he doesn’t put them wise to me, or to anything else, or your license will go so high in the air you could not see it with the Lick telescope.”
The proprietor actually turned pale, so impressive was Patsy, and he muttered quickly:
“You leave it to me. I’ll fix the waiter, all right. Go ahead as soon as you please.”
“Gee! I’ve got him well muzzled,” thought Patsy, now seeking the adjoining dining room. “He looks as if I already had put his place on the blink. He wouldn’t dare say his soul’s his own. Now, by Jove, I must get in unheard.”
Patsy opened and closed the door noiselessly, entering the room. It was like that occupied by Cora Cavendish and her companion, but the plastered wall between the two rooms precluded playing the eavesdropper in that direction.
Turning to the window, therefore, Patsy began to raise it by slow degrees until he could lean out cautiously. He then found that the other window was only four feet away, and through the opening, for it had been raised several inches for ventilation, he could hear the voices of the suspected couple.
One object caught his eye, moreover, that alone served to confirm the theory Nick had formed.
Cora Cavendish had taken a chair, but had drawn it away from the table. She was seated close to the open window. She had removed her long lavender gloves and her left arm was rested on the window sill, her fingers toying with the lace draperies.
Between the filmy curtains Patsy caught sight of her hand and arm, bare nearly to the elbow.