He took me into the fine, handsomely-furnished dining-room, with big long carved table in the centre, and showed me the small round table set in the big bow window looking out upon the garden, at which the Baron always ate his meals when alone.
“After finishing his dinner the Baron smoked one of his Petroff cigarettes which were especially made for him in Odessa, and then calling me, he asked for his coat and told me to ring up for the car,” Folcker said. “He finished his cigarette and a glass of kümmel, at the same time scanning the evening newspaper. All the time he had been eating, however, he seemed in a very angry mood. The interview with the stranger at The Hague had somehow upset him, for once or twice he muttered angrily to himself.”
“Now tell me, Folcker,” I asked seriously, “when he entered that little hotel at The Hague he waited for his mysterious visitor—did he not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The visitor arrived and you saw him. I understand that your master came out and saw you during the interview?”
“Yes. About ten minutes after the stranger’s arrival the Baron came into the little hall of the hotel and told me that he would not require me for an hour, or perhaps more. Apparently he did not wish the car to stand outside the place for so long, lest it should be recognized. So he sent me to a garage.”
I hesitated.
“Then the stranger was left inside the hotel alone?”
“Yes, sir, for two or three minutes. Why?”
We were standing out in the well-furnished hall and I glanced around.