“No,” I replied, “I’m not good at remembering quotations.”
“Well, the Bible says, ‘Whoso findeth a wife, findeth a good thing.’ I hope you’ll be no exception to that rule.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “I don’t know what it says about husbands, but, however it may be worded, you have my heartiest wishes for long life and good luck.”
At that instant Ella, on the arm of a young Italian marquis, possessed of a longer title than his rent-roll, entered. I sprang up at once and introduced her, and soon we all four were chatting merrily. When, a quarter of an hour later, we rose to return to the ballroom, Ella, radiant and happy, walked beside me. In reply to my question, she declared that she was enjoying herself immensely, but as we were re-entering the salon she clutched my arm, and in a half-frightened whisper exclaimed,—
“Look! Geoffrey. Look at that servant in uniform over there. Why, it’s our man, Helmholtz!”
I glanced in the direction she had indicated, and sure enough there was the detective Renouf, who, in the Laing household, posed as Carl Helmholtz, in the handsome blue-and-gold livery of the Embassy, handing an ice to a lady. Instantly I grasped the situation.
“It is a striking resemblance, dearest,” I said; “nothing more.”
“But I’m certain it’s Helmholtz,” she declared excitedly. “Take me closer to him.”
“When we were at Pont Street this afternoon, Helmholtz was there, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. He brought tea into the drawing-room.”