“I suppose so,” he said rather thoughtfully. “From her general build I took her to be an English Napier.”
“She has the Napier cut,” I remarked. “I think Bellini imitates the English style.”
It was fortunate, I thought, that the “bonnet” was strapped down and locked, for the engines were stamped with their maker’s name.
“You travel about a lot on her, I suppose,” he went on. “It’s a fine car, certainly. Did you come across the Continent?”
“Yes. I’ve been about Europe a good deal,” I answered. “Saves railway fares, you know.” And I laughed.
We were travelling quickly, and, the dust being troublesome, we pulled up, and then, after all four of us goggling, went forward again.
After tea at the Golden Höhe Mr. Gibbs again evinced a keen interest in the car, examining it carefully, and declaring it to be a most excellent one. Then, on the run back, he again turned the conversation to motoring topics, with a strenuous desire, it seemed, to know my most recent movements.
A couple of days passed, and I found Upton’s friend a most congenial companion. Each afternoon we all went out for a run, and each evening, after dining, we went to the theatre.
On the fourth day after Mr. Gibbs’s arrival a messenger brought me a note which, to my surprise, I found to be from Blythe, who directed me to meet him in secret in a certain café in the Grosse Garten at eleven o’clock that night.
Then I knew that something further had been planned.