“Do—do you know her well?”
“No, indeed; I have seen her several times on the stage, but never met her until a few moments ago.”
“A few moments ago! Do you mean she is here in this hotel?”
“Yes, Miss Hope, and that was what made the mistake in names so laughable. Fairbain gave me your message, but as coming from Christie. I was, of course, greatly surprised, yet responded. The lady very promptly denied having sent for me, but as I was anxious to interview her myself, we managed to drift into conversation, and I must have passed a half hour there. I might have been there still, but for an interruption.”
“Oh, indeed!” with rising inflection.
He glanced quickly about, reminded of the situation.
“Yes, Hawley came in, and I would prefer not to meet him here, or have him discover you were in Sheridan. Could we not go to your room? I have much to tell you.”
Her questioning eyes left his face, and stared down over the rail. A heavily built man, with red moustache, leaned against the clerk's desk, his face toward them.
“Do you know that man?” she asked quickly. “He followed me all the time I was shopping. I—I believe he is the same one who jostled me in the crowd last night.”
Keith leaned past her to get a better view, but the fellow turned, and slouched away.