In about a quarter of an hour he returned, and so suddenly did he re-appear that I was half afraid that he must have seen and recognized me. A few minutes later, however, it became clear that he had not, for again he stood idly looking into a neighboring shop window.
When Thelma and her cousin came out they crossed the road, and walked to Piccadilly Circus, where they entered a well-known draper’s. It was then after five o’clock.
Again old Feng lounged outside while I, fearing recognition, remained on the opposite side of the road near the entrance to the Café Monico.
The time passed slowly. The hurrying home-going crowds focussed upon the Tube station where all had become bustle, and already half-an-hour had passed. I watched the old man peer into the big shop every now and then curiously impatient and anxious. It was plain that he could not see the pair. He must have thought they were making extensive purchases, for nearly three quarters of an hour elapsed ere it seemed to dawn upon him that there were two exits from the shop into Piccadilly!
His chagrin could be plainly seen. Ignorant, of course, that they were being watched, the two girls had unwittingly eluded his vigilance and calmly left by the other entrance.
He hurried round the corner amid the crowd awaiting the motor buses, and then sped back again. It was plain that he was annoyed, and I thought very considerably perturbed.
Realizing at last that they had eluded him he crossed the Circus and entered a motor bus which would take him home to Barnes. Then, having watched his departure, I turned away and walked thoughtfully back to Russell Square.
On leaving the office early next afternoon, I called upon Hartley Humphreys, at the Carlton. A page took me up in the lift and knocked at the door. But before he did so I distinctly heard voices within and recognized them as those of Humphreys and Feng. They were laughing loudly together. When they heard the page knock, they instantly ceased talking. I heard a door communicating with the adjoining room close, and then Humphreys gave permission to enter.
The old financier sat alone and was most effusive in his welcome.
“So glad to see you, Yelverton!” he cried, grasping my hand. “Sit down,” and he touched the bell for the waiter. “I’ve been north and only got back last night. Next week I hope to move into that house at Hampstead that I’ve bought. I’m sick to death of hotels. You must come and see me there; come and dine one night.”