“I see. Look here, suppose I ever wanted to run across Miss Dorland accidentally on purpose—where should I be likely to find her?”
“You do seem thrilled about her! I think I should try the Rushworths. They go in rather for science and improving the submerged tenth and things like that. Of course, I suppose Ann’s in mourning now, but I don’t think that would necessarily keep her away from the Rushworths. Their gatherings aren’t precisely frivolous.”
“Thanks very much. You’re a mine of valuable information. And, for a woman, you don’t ask many questions.”
“Thank you for those few kind words. Lord Peter.”
“I am now free to devote my invaluable attention to your concerns. What is the news? And who is in love with whom?”
“Oh, life is a perfect desert. Nobody is in love with me, and the Schlitzers have had a worse row than usual and separated.”
“No!”
“Yes. Only, owing to financial considerations, they’ve got to go on sharing the same studio—you know, that big room over the mews. It must be very awkward having to eat and sleep and work in the same room with somebody you’re being separated from. They don’t even speak, and it’s very awkward when you call on one of them and the other has to pretend not to be able to see or hear you.”
“I shouldn’t think one could keep it up under those circumstances.”
“It’s difficult. I’d have had Olga here, only she is so dreadfully bad-tempered. Besides, neither of them will give up the studio to the other.”
“I see. But isn’t there any third party in the case?”
“Yes—Ulric Fiennes, the sculptor, you know. But he can’t have her at his place because his wife’s there, and he’s really dependent on his wife, because his sculping doesn’t pay. And besides, he’s at work on that colossal group for the Exhibition and he can’t move it; it weighs about twenty tons. And if he went off and took Olga away, his wife would lock him out of the place. It’s very inconvenient being a sculptor. It’s like playing the double-bass; one’s so handicapped by one’s baggage.”
“True. Whereas, when you run away with me, we’ll be able to put all the pottery shepherds and shepherdesses in a handbag.”
“Of course. What fun it will be. Where shall we run to?”
“How about starting tonight and getting as far as Oddenino’s and going on to a show—if you’re not doing anything?”
“You are a loveable man, and I shall call you Peter. Shall we see Betwixt and Between?”
“The thing they had such a job to get past the censor? Yes, if you like. Is it particularly obscene?”
“No, epicene, I fancy.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I’m quite agreeable. Only I warn you that I shall make a point of asking you the meaning of all the risky bits in a very audible voice.”
“That’s your idea of amusement, is it?”
“Yes. It does make them so wild. People say ‘Hush!’ and giggle, and if I’m lucky I end up with a gorgeous row in the bar.”
“Then I won’t risk it. No. I’ll tell you what I’d really love. We’ll go and see George Barnwell at the Elephant and have a fish-and-chips supper afterwards.”
This was agreed upon, and was voted in retrospect a most profitable evening. It finished up with grilled kippers at a friend’s studio in the early hours. Lord Peter returned home to find a note upon the hall-table.
My lord,
The person from Sleuths Incorporated rang up today that he was inclined to acquiesce in your lordship’s opinion, but that he was keeping his eye upon the party and would report further tomorrow. The sandwiches are on the dining-room table, if your lordship should require refreshment.
“Cross the gypsy’s palm with silver,” said his lordship, happily, and rolled into bed.
XI
Lord Peter Clears Trumps
Sleuth’s Incorporated’s report, when it came, might be summed up as “Nothing doing and Major Fentiman convinced that there never will be anything doing; opinion shared by Sleuths Incorporated.” Lord Peter’s reply was: “Keep on watching and something will happen before the week is out.”
His lordship was justified. On the fourth evening, Sleuths Incorporated reported again by telephone. The particular sleuth in charge of the case had been duly relieved by Major Fentiman at 6 p.m. and had gone to get his dinner. On returning to his post an hour later, he had been presented with a note left for him with the ticket-collector at the stairhead. It ran: “Just seen Oliver getting into taxi. Am following. Will communicate to refreshment-room. Fentiman.” The sleuth had perforce to return to the refreshment room and hang about waiting for a further message. “But all the while, my lord, the second man I put on as instructed by you, my lord, was a-following the Major unbeknownst.” Presently a call was put through from Waterloo. “Oliver is on the Southampton train. I am following.” The sleuth hurried down to Waterloo, found the train gone and followed on by the next. At Southampton he made inquiries and learned that a gentleman answering to Fentiman’s description had made a violent disturbance as the Havre boat was just starting, and had been summarily ejected at the instance of an elderly man whom he appeared to have annoyed or attacked in some way. Further investigation
