Had she, too, cleverly escaped by entering the shop, and passing out by another entrance?
Another careful tour of the establishment revealed the fact that she certainly was not there.
And so, after a wait of nearly two hours, I was compelled to accept the hard and very remarkable fact that she had purposely evaded me, and escaped!
Then she was in league with the men who had stolen my thousand pounds! And yet had not that selfsame man declared that she, having betrayed him, was to meet the same terrible fate as that prepared for me?
For a final five minutes I waited; then annoyed, disappointed and dismayed, entered the taxi, and drove to Wilton Street.
On entering with my latch-key, Browning came forward with a puzzled expression, surprised, no doubt, at my dishevelled appearance.
“I’ve been very anxious about you, Mr. Owen,” exclaimed the old man. I was always Mr. Owen to him, just as I had been when a lad. “When I went to your room this morning I found your bed empty. I wondered where you had gone.”
“I’ve had a strange adventure, Browning,” I laughed, rather forcedly I fear. “Has Mr. Marlowe rung me up?”
“No, sir. But somebody else rang up about an hour ago, and asked whether you were in.”