"Berrington," he repeatedand in his eyes there was a singular expression"I have an idea."
He turned to a page who was standing near.
"Boy," he said sharply, "what address did that gentleman who has just gone tell you to give to his driver?"
"He told the driver himself, sir," the boy answered, "but I heard the address he gave, sir."
"What was it?"
"Three forty, Maresfield Gardens, sir. It's near Swiss Cottageup Fitzjohn's Avenue on the right."
Osborne turned to me quickly.
"Come into this room," he said. "There is something I want to ask you. The place is empty, and we shall not be disturbed."
When he had closed the door, and glanced about him to make sure that we were alone, he said in a low voice:
"Look here, Mike, I tell you again, I have an idea: I wonder if you will fall in with it. I have watched that fellow Gastrell pretty closely all the evening; I am rather a good judge of men, you know, and I believe him to be an impostor of some kindI can't say just yet of what kind. Anyway, he is the man I met on the Masonic; he can deny it as much as he likeshe is. Either he is impersonating some other man, or some other man is impersonating him. Now listen. I am going to that address in Maresfield Gardens that he gave to his taxi-driver. I am going to find out if he lives there, or what he is doing there. What I want to know isWill you come with me?"