“And now, at this lapse of time, the Press could not mention it for fear of libel. They’ll think that the Doctor had done a moonlight flit, instead of paying his rent.”
“It certainly looks like that,” remarked Max with a laugh. “But I only wish we could induce Marion to tell us all she knows.”
Charlie sighed.
“Yes,” he said. “I only wish she would say something. But she refuses absolutely, and so we’re left entirely in the dark.”
“Well, all I can say is, that the Doctor would never wilfully leave me in ignorance of his whereabouts, especially at this moment. We have certain business matters together involving a probable gain of a good round sum. Therefore, it was surely to his interest to keep me in touch with him!” Max declared.
The man before him was silent.
Was it possible that he had misjudged him? Was he lying; or had he really gone to Cromwell Road in search of the Doctor and found the house untenanted and empty?
“It is a complete mystery,” was all that Rolfe could say.
“Do you know, Charlie, a curious thought struck me the other day, and I mention it to you in all confidence. It may be absurd—but—well, somehow I can’t get it out of my head.”
“And what is it?” asked his friend with an eagerness just a little unusual.