utterly the wrong
place for a poster, but Hugo had chosen the mirror as the field of his
labours solely that he might surreptitiously observe every soul that
entered the room.

The clock on the mantelpiece struck nine, and the last assistant had
fled, and Hugo was left alone with the pink-aproned waitress, who was
collecting glasses on a tray.

'Has Miss Payne come this morning?' he asked casually of the girl,
patting the poster like an artist absorbed in his work.

It was a reckless question. He well knew that in half an hour the whole
basement would be aware that Mr. Hugo had asked after Miss Payne, but he
scorned the whole basement.

'Miss who, sir?'

'Miss Payne, of the millinery department.'

'A tall young lady, sir?'

'Yes.'

'With chestnut hair?'

'Now you have me,' he lied.

'I fancy I know who you mean, sir; and now I come to think of it, I
don't think she has.'

The waitress spoke in an apologetic tone, and looked at the clock with
an apologetic look. She was no fool, that waitress.

'Thank you.'

As he left the room Albert Shawn entered by the other door, and,
perceiving nobody but the waitress, kissed the waitress, and was kissed
by her heartily.

Hugo's deportment was debonnair, but his heart had seriously sunk. Just
as he had before been quite sure that Camilla would come as usual, now
he was quite sure that she would not come as usual. Ever since he had
learnt from Ravengar that Tudor had been ignorant of Ravengar's presence
in the flat, and that Ravengar had had to 'dispose of' the housekeeper,
a horrid suspicion had lurked at the back of his mind, and now this
suspicion sprang out upon his hopes of Camilla's arrival, and fairly
strangled them. And the suspicion was that Camilla had misjudged Francis
Tudor, that his intentions had throughout been perfectly honourable, and
that on her return to the flat he had quickly convinced Camilla of this.

In which case, where did he, Hugo, come in?

As for the terms of the note, he perceived that he had interpreted them
in a particular way because he wished to interpret them in a particular
way.

He ascended in the direction of Department 42. Perhaps, after all, she
had escaped his vigilance, and was at her duties.

On the way thither he was accosted by a manager.

'Mr. Hugo.'

'Well, Banbury?'

'I telephoned to New Scotland Yard, but they refused any information.
However, I've got a pair from the nearest police-station. I shall order