That incident of the photograph—the picture believed to have been of myself—which the foreigner tried to secure but which the man Lewis had himself destroyed, was incomprehensible. What had been intended by the foreigner?
I gathered all the information I could in the hotel, and then, after a hasty meal, re-entered the car and set out upon the dark, cold return journey to London.
Where was Sylvia? Who were her mysterious friends? And, chief of all, who was that man Lewis who addressed her in such endearing terms?
What could possibly be the solution of the mystery?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“SOME SENSATIONAL REVELATIONS”
The days dragged by. The papers were full of the robbery, declaring that it had been executed so neatly as to betray the hand of experts.