His companion nodded. "Yes," she said. "I live here. I'm an artist."
"Then, just in case Miss Seymour does come home, would you mind asking her to let Doctor Ashton know immediately?"
"Certainly I will," said the girl. "Even if I don't hear her, she's sure to look in in order to see about the parcel." She hesitated. "I—I should like to congratulate you, if I may," she added. "I don't know Miss Seymour very well—I have only been in this studio a few weeks—but one's merely got to speak to her to see that she's a perfect dear."
In spite of his anxiety, Colin smiled at her gratefully.
"Thank you so much," he said. "I'll tell Nancy what a brick you've been."
He shook her hand and, leaving her standing in the doorway, hurried downstairs again into the street.
There was a chemist's shop at the corner which boasted a public telephone, and, entering the box, he rang up Mark.
"No news here," came the reply in answer to his first inquiry. "How about you?"
In a few words Colin acquainted him with the story he had just been told, giving the bare facts exactly as he had heard them from the girl.
"It seems a devilish queer business," was Mark's comment, after a short pause. "What are you going to do about it?"