A few moments later the door opened, and the servant ushered in Attorney Sturges and a friend of his, a pleasant, rather simple-looking man named Sims.
“I fear we are a little early, Miss Grey,” said Sturges, when he had presented his friend.
“Not at all,” Annette replied easily. “Professor March asked me to make his excuses to you; he was detained at the British Museum and only arrived a few minutes ago. He is dressing, and will be down in a few minutes. Meanwhile, I must play hostess.”
“And most adequately,” murmured Sturges, with old-fashioned courtesy.
Then, as the door closed behind the servant, he spoke rapidly:
“We came a little early on purpose,” he explained. “You are prepared, Miss Vane?”
“Quite,” said the girl calmly.
“Good. Inspector Sims agrees with me that if we are ever to discover the mystery of your sister’s disappearance, it will be tonight. Sims has been practising his part, and does it admirably.”
The Scotland Yard man smiled.
“I think I can play it,” he said. “And I congratulate you, Miss Vane, on the way you have handled the matter. This idea is an excellent one, and I admit I should never have thought of it myself. I hope, too,” he went on, without the slightest alteration in his tone, as a step sounded outside and the door opened, “that Professor March will not deny me a peep at the wonderful treasures be keeps here.”