followed by the lady whom they had just run to ground. But when he was set down at the main entrance of the great twelve-storied palace he received the assurance that nothing of the sort had occurred.
“Not so keen after you, sir, as you was after her,” ejaculated the smart cabman as he whipped up and wheeled round, dissatisfied, after the manner of his kind, with the extra half-crown he had received for his “shadowing job.”
Forsyth shuddered. “Keen, by George!” he murmured ruefully. “If only my devotion to poor old Charley could have led me into paths untrodden by Mrs. Talmage Eglinton my task would have been a lighter one.”
He went into the bureau and inquired if Mr. Clinton Ziegler was in, receiving the stereotyped reply that Mr. Ziegler was always in, being an invalid. Whereupon he sent up his card, first penciling thereon the words, “Private Secretary to the Duke of Beaumanoir.”
The bell-boy who took up the card reappeared almost immediately, flying down the grand staircase three steps at a time.
[238]
