He replied in the negative.

"No doubt he is expected, if the lady called to see him?"

"No doubt, sir. Perhaps he'll be here to-day."

And with that, I was compelled to turn disappointed away. I wandered
into the restaurant, and there ate my lunch alone. The place was
crowded, as it always is, mostly by people interested in cotton and
its products, for it is, perhaps, one of the most cosmopolitan hotels
in the whole kingdom. Sick of the chatter and clatter of the place, I
paid my bill and passed out into the big smoking-lounge to take my
coffee and liqueur and idle over the newspaper.

I was not quite certain whether to remain there the night and watch
for Pennington's arrival, or to return to London. As a matter of fact,
so certain had I been of finding him that I had not brought a
suit-case.

I suppose I had been in the lounge half-an-hour or so, when I looked
up, and then, to my surprise, saw Pennington, smartly dressed, and
looking very spruce for his years, crossing from the bureau with a
number of letters in his hand. It was apparent that he had just
received them from the mail-clerk.

And yet I had been told that he was not staying there!

I held my paper in such position as to conceal my face while I watched
his movements.

He halted, opened a telegram, and read it eagerly. Then, crushing it
in his hand with a gesture of annoyance, he thrust it into his jacket
pocket.

He was dressed in a smart dark grey suit, which fitted him perfectly,
a grey soft felt hat, while his easy manner and bearing were those of
a gentleman of wealth and leisure. He held a cigar between his
fingers, and, walking slowly as he opened one of the letters, he
presently threw himself into one of the big arm-chairs near me, and
became absorbed in his correspondence.

There was a waste-paper basket near, and into this he tossed something
as valueless. One of the letters evidently caused him considerable
annoyance, for, removing his hat, he passed his hand slowly over his
bald head as he sat staring at it in mystification. Then he rang the
bell, and ordered something from a waiter. A liqueur of brandy was
brought, and, tossing it off at a gulp, he rose, wrote a telegram at
the table near him, and went quickly out.

After he had gone I also rose, and, without attracting attention,
crossed, took up another paper, and then seated myself in the chair he
had vacated.

My eye was upon the waste-paper basket, and when no one was