“I, too,” said Mr. Delancey, “must confess myself a little fogged. And you, Reggie?”
“Completely, Cyril,” said Mr. Brown, removing his bowler hat with a puzzled frown, examining the maker’s name, and putting it on again.
“The poor child is infatuated with this man.”
“With the bloke Spelvin?”
“Yes. She is coming here with him at four o’clock.”
“Important,” said Mr. Brown, producing a note-book and making an entry.
“Important, if true,” agreed Mr. Delancey.
“But I heard you making the appointment with the bloke Spelvin over the ’phone,” said William.
“He thought I was Anastatia. And I came here to save her.”