“She stared at me.
“‘There’s no Mrs. MacPherson here.’
“I heard a man’s voice from inside the flat,—
“‘What is it, Belle?’
“She called back over her shoulder,—
“‘Here’s a party asking to see Mrs. MacPherson.’
“‘Who is it?’ asked the voice.
“‘Who are you, anyway?’ said Belle to me.
“‘I have been sent here by Mr. MacPherson, Mr. Angus MacPherson, with a message for his wife,’ I said, ‘but as I have evidently made a mistake I had better apologise and go away.’
“She looked suddenly thoughtful—or was it apprehensive?