Barres said:
“I think one of them is a tall, bony, one-eyed man, 209 who has been hanging around here pretending to peddle artists’ materials.”
Thessalie made a quick gesture of assent and of caution:
“Yes! His name is Max Freund. I have found it impossible to conceal my whereabouts from him. This man, with only one eye, appears to be a friend of the superintendent, Soane. I am not certain that Soane himself is employed by this gang of blackmailers, but I believe that his one-eyed friend may pay him for any scraps of information concerning me.”
“Then we had better keep an eye on Soane,” growled Westmore. “He’s no good; he’ll take graft from anybody.”
“Where is his daughter, Dulcie?” asked Thessalie. “Is she not your model, Garry?”
“Yes. She’s in my room now, lying down. This morning it was pretty hot in here, and Dulcie fainted on the model stand.”
“The poor child!” exclaimed Thessalie impulsively. “Could I go in and see her?”
“Why, yes, if you like,” he replied, surprised at her warm-hearted interest. He added, as Thessalie rose: “She is really all right again. But go in if you like. And you might tell Dulcie she can have her lunch in there if she wants it; but if she’s going to dress she ought to be about it, because it’s getting on toward the luncheon hour.”
So Thessalie went swiftly away down the corridor to knock at the door of the bedroom, and Barres walked out with Westmore as far as the stairs.