"A gentleman has just come out," he exclaimed,--"tall and fair, very carefully dressed, with a single eyeglass! Which way did he go?"
"He's just driven off in a big Daimler car, sir," the porter answered. "I noticed him particularly. He spoke to the chauffeur in Austrian."
Laverick looked out into the Strand.
"Can't we stop him?" he asked rapidly.
The porter smiled as he shook his head.
"Not the ghost of a chance, sir. He shot round the corner there as though he were in a desperate hurry, and went the wrong side of the island. I heard the police calling to him. I hope there's nothing wrong, Mr. Dean?"
The cashier hesitated and glanced at Laverick.
"Nothing much," Laverick answered. "We should have liked to have asked him a question--that is all."
Bellamy came out from the hotel and paused to light a cigarette.
"How are you, Laverick?" he said quietly. "Nothing the matter, I hope?"
"Nothing worth mentioning," Laverick replied.
The cashier returned to his duties. The two men were alone. Bellamy, most carefully dressed, with his silver-headed cane under his arm, and his silk hat at precisely the correct angle, seemed very far removed from the work of intrigue into which Laverick felt himself to have blundered. He looked down for a moment at the tips of his patent shoes and up again at the sky, as though anxious about the weather.
"What about a drink, Laverick?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Delighted!" Laverick assented.