“Only that he had seen you in Manchester.”
“When did you see him last?”
“Well,” I said, “as a matter of fact he met me in London the same night, and I fancy I have caught sight of him twice since. The first occasion was a fortnight ago in Princes Street, Edinburgh, when I saw him coming forth from the North British Hotel with another man, also a foreigner. They turned up Princes Street, and then descended the steps to the station before I could approach sufficiently close. I was walking with Sylvia, so could not well hasten after them. The second occasion was yesterday, when I believe I saw him in a taxi passing us as we drove out to tea at Armenonville.”
“Did he see you?” asked Pennington quickly.
“I think so. I fancy he recognized me.”
“Did Sylvia see him?” he asked almost breathlessly.
“No.”
“Ah!” and he seemed to breathe again more freely.
“Apparently he is not a very great friend of yours,” I ventured to remark.