Hyde was cunning enough to foresee that, if Chick was in such great haste, their conversation would probably be carried on in the outer office.
So it was, moreover, despite that Weston at once cried, as he shook his visitor by the hand:
“Why, hello, Chick Carter! How are you? Come inside.”
“No, no, chief,” Chick quickly declined. “I’m going to stay but a moment. Has Nick been here to-day?”
“Yes—about one o’clock.”
“Do you know where he has gone?”
“I know where he said he was going.”
“Where was that?”
“To Madame Victoria’s rooms, in Tremont Street,” replied Weston.
“Do you know for what?” inquired Chick, beginning to see light ahead.