With a graceful bow to Virginia, he stepped out of the window.
“Bed,” said Virginia, yawning. “It’s all been very exciting. Come on, Bill, go to bed like a good little boy. The breakfast table will see us not, I fear.”
Anthony stayed at the window looking after the retreating form of M. Lemoine.
“You wouldn’t think it,” said Battle behind him, “but that’s supposed to be the cleverest detective in France.”
“I don’t know that I wouldn’t,” said Anthony thoughtfully. “I rather think I would.”
“Well,” said Battle, “he was right about the excitements of this night being over. By the way, do you remember my telling you about that man they’d found shot near Staines?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Nothing. They’ve identified him, that’s all. It seems he was called Giuseppe Manuelli. He was a waiter at the Blitz in London. Curious, isn’t it?”
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