Sybil, who used to live with my uncle,” Beaumanoir mused aloud. “I wonder what has become of her.”
“I believe that she is still at your town house in Piccadilly,” replied Forsyth with a constraint which the other did not notice in his self-absorption. But the next moment it struck Beaumanoir as odd that the information should have been so readily forthcoming, for he had been unaware that his friend knew his relatives.
“You have made Sybil Hanbury’s acquaintance, then?” he asked.
“Yes, since your departure for America,” was the reply. “I had the pleasure of meeting her first at my uncle’s in Grosvenor Gardens—General Sadgrove’s, you know. I dare say you remember him?”
“Oh, yes; I remember the General well—a shrewd old party with eyes like gimlets,” said Beaumanoir. “But what’s this about Grosvenor Gardens?” he added quickly. “The Sadgroves used to live in Bruton Street.”
“Quite so; but they moved to 140 Grosvenor Gardens, last Christmas.”
“140!” exclaimed the Duke. “Why, that’s where the Shermans are going to stay. Some
[41]
