He went with Marion to the end of her journey, and then left her in pretence of walking to his destination.
But after he had raised his hat to her so politely, and bent over her hand, he turned on his heel muttering to himself—
“You think you are his friend, my poor, silly little girl! No. You will compel him to go with me to the East, and thus become my catspaw—the tool of Jean Adam.”
And giving vent to a short, dry laugh of triumph, he went on his way.
Chapter Twenty One.
Shows Mr Statham at Home.
Many a man and many a woman, as they passed up Park Lane on motor-’buses, in cabs, or on foot, glanced at the white house of Samuel Statham, and wondered.
The mystery concerning it and its owner always attracted them. Many were the weird stories afloat concerning it, stories greatly akin to those already told in a previous chapter. Men had watched, it was said, and had seen queer goings and comings. But as the matter concerned nobody in particular it merely excited public curiosity.