The Toff and The Lady

can rely on his getting there to the minute. That is, you used to be able to. Since he saw the woman, he’s been unreliable, almost irresponsible. I feel sure that he has been meeting her.”

Rollison looked at Gwendoline’s flushed face and angry eyes, and said deliberately:

“If you think there is an affaire, I can hardly interfere.”

“I don’t believe that David would sink to that!” said Gwendoline. “No, it’s something much more than an affaire, and the woman has chosen this way of wishing herself on to us. Hilda has already suggested that when she leaves the nursing home she should come to stay with us for a week or two, and David hasn’t made a demur. That’s unlike him, he usually prefers to have just Hilda and me at the house, and dislikes it when we have to do much entertaining. He’s a man of very few social contacts; he spends his life at his work, and the only rest he gets is with us. Now this woman is preventing him from getting any rest. There are times when he looks positively haunted! I knew when Hilda suggested that she should stay that he hated the thought, and yet for some reason he couldn’t refuse.”

“What prompted Hilda to be so kind?” asked Rollison.

“Her own generous heart,” said Gwendoline, and contrived to prevent the words from sounding trite. “She is quite the most generous person alive. If there’s a suggestion that anyone is in difficulties she’s on the spot as soon as she can get there. Surely you know her well enough for that.”

“Of course,” said Rollison, although he would not have rated Hilda quite so high. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

“Find out the truth about this woman.”

“Anyone who claims to have lost her memory comes under the jurisdiction of the police, you know, and they’ll find out who she is and whether she is telling the truth. They’re not unused to people who pretend.”

“Oh, the police,” said Gwendoline, scornfully. Then her eyes widened with alarm. “The police! I hadn’t thought of that. You can’t tell what clumsy idiots like policemen will do or say, they haven’t an ounce of tact in their make-up. Why, they might discover that the woman’s seen David before and tell Hilda without stopping to think.”

Rollison laughed.

“You’re too hard on the police.”

“I’m not,” said Gwendoline, warmly. “I’ve had some dealings with them over parking my car—they’re always unimaginative and sometimes unbelievably dense. Don’t grin like that! Rolly, will you help?”

“Why did you select me?” asked Rollison.

“Well, everyone knows that you’re interested in mysteries, and this is a mystery. Don’t forget that David is a banker of some standing. He has a lot of influence, and his support for a project, for instance, would persuade a lot of other people to support it.”

“What kind of project?”

“A loan, or a new Company, or something like that,” said Gwendoline. “This is exactly the kind of mystery which should interest you, and—well, we have some claim on your friendship, haven’t we?”

“You certainly have.”

“Then you’ll help?”

“If I can,” said Rollison, “and without admitting that you’re justified iii being alarmed. Let’s go back to my question— why select me? I don’t think you would pay much attention to the rumours concerning me. You’re not usually interested in anything that makes for notoriety. I would have put you in the category of those who strongly disapprove of my goings-on.”

Gwendoline coloured furiously.

“Well, sometimes I have, but—well, everyone knows that you’re sometimes called The Toff and that you do seem to have some influence with the police. As a matter of fact, I’m interested in the psychology of crime, and I’ve followed some of your cases. In their way they have been quite interesting.”

“Thanks,” said Rollison, humbly. “Have you ever written to me, Gwen?”

He felt quite sure that if she had first sent the photograph to arouse his interest, and was now following that up, he would have got some indication from her reaction. She looked blank and a little impatient, and at the same time puzzled.

“I sent you the invitation to the Bal Masque, didn’t I?” she asked. “Why do you ask?”

“I had an unsigned letter to-day on die lines of your diatribe about the lady.”

Gwendoline sat very straight in her chair.

“I do not send anonymous letters!”

“People do unexpected things when they’re driven to desperation,” said Rollison. “It rather looks as if someone else takes an equally poor view of the loss of memory, doesn’t it?”

“That shouldn’t surprise you.”

“I suppose not. Have you ever talked to the woman?”

“No.”

“Nor met anyone who knows her well?”

“No. If I could give you any more information I would, but surely you’ve enough to start work on.”

“I could hint broadly to your father”