Thus exhorted, Murchison launched into a copious narrative. He explained that on the night of the dinner with the Southleighs at Carlton House Terrace, he had met for the first time the wife of his old friend Guy Spencer, that he had detected in her an extraordinary likeness to Norah Burton. The marriage had been hastily contracted; next to nothing was known about the young woman's antecedents, apart from the very vague details with which she furnished them.
In the background was a cousin, by all accounts a very common fellow, who had never visited the house since the marriage. Then there was the episode of Tommy Esmond being found cheating at cards at the L'Estrange flat, and Stella Keane's farewell meeting with him at Charing Cross Station.
Mr. Bryant made copious notes. When the narrative was finished he made his comments.
"There are, of course, coincidences that may mean nothing or a great deal, Major Murchison. However, assuming that the lady in question is not our old friend Norah Burton, she is evidently not a very estimable member of society. She was in a shady set at Mrs. L'Estrange's, and Tommy Esmond must have been a pretty close pal."
"Well, I want you to take this case on for me, and find out what you can."
But Bryant shook his head. "Sorry, sir, but in my position I can't take on private business. It is not a public matter, you see, unless you can accuse them of anything." Hugh's face fell. "I forgot that. What am I to do? Can you recommend me to a private detective?"
"Half a dozen, sir, all keen fellows. But you can't stir very much without me, in the first instance. You want me to identify them. Well, I will go so far as that, in memory of the time when we were together in the original job. Mrs. Spencer, you say, lives in Eaton Place. I will keep a watch on that house till I see her coming out or going in. If I agree that she was Norah Burton, we have got the first step. Now, what do you know about this cousin, Dutton?"
"Only that he is an outside stockbroker, with an office, or offices, in the City."
"Good." Mr. Bryant opened a telephone book and rapidly turned over the pages. "Here he is, right enough—George Dutton—George, mark you—share- and stock-broker, Bartholomew Court. Well, sir, to oblige you, I will run down to the City and get a peep at Mr. George Dutton. If my recollection agrees with yours, I will put you on to one of my friends, and you can have the precious pair watched. If they are the persons you think they are, you may depend upon it they won't keep long apart; they will make opportunities of meeting each other. Anyway, they must be pretty thick together, or he would not put up with being excluded from the house."
Hugh left with a great sense of relief. He felt that the matter was in very capable hands. If Bryant told him that he was following a will-o'-the-wisp, then the whole matter could drop. The fact of Mrs. Spencer's relations with Tommy Esmond were hardly important enough to justify him in disturbing his friend's domestic felicity.