“Yes?”
“May I use your telephone?”
“Of course! But—do—you—”
“Where—Oh, there it is!”
He went to it and called up the bureau. Then he said: “Sir Seymour Portman is speaking from Miss Van Tuyn’s sitting-room . . . is that Mr. Henriques? Please tell me, has that man, Arabian, of whom we spoke just now, called again?”
There was a silence in which Miss Van Tuyn, watching, saw a frown wrinkle deeply Sir Seymour’s forehead.
“Ah! Has he gone? Did you get rid of him? . . . How long ago? . . . Only two or three minutes! . . . Do you think he knows I am here? . . . Thank you. I’ll be down in a moment.”
He put the receiver back.
“Oh, but don’t leave me!” said Miss Van Tuyn distractedly. “You see, in spite of what you told him he has come!”
“Yes. He has been. He’s a determined fellow.”