CHAPTER IV
Thr Problem of the Diamond
I WAS scarcely surprised when Godfrey’s card was brought in to me at the office next morning. Both Mr. Graham and Mr. Royce happened to be out at the time, so that I had the inner room to myself, and I directed that Godfrey be shown in at once.
“I was expecting you,” I said, rising to shake hands with him. “That stare of yours last night warned me that you’d be around to demand an explanation.”
“Demand is hardly the word,” he corrected, as he sat down. “Beseech would be nearer it. I confess I was never more surprised in my life than when I saw you sitting there calmly chatting away with Mrs. Tremaine.”
“Then you have met her? She thought she was mistaken.”
“You mean she knew me?” he asked quickly.
“She asked who you were—she fancied she’d met you somewhere.”
Godfrey laughed a little dry laugh.
“She has,” he said, “but it’s strange she remembers it, for I’ll swear she never looked at me—or perhaps,” he added, knitting his brows, “she has some special reason to remember. I happened to be in the hall of the Marathon apartment house talking with Higgins, the janitor, when she and her husband came
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