“Well, well, Martin. The detective reckoned that his quarry would be up in ten days more. Brown or Jones, I dare say. “I heard the other day that she’d been taken in by some cad of a fellow who was cutting a great dash in Paris, personating Meysey Hill, the great railway man. There it is. His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. ‘I do not wish to hear any more reasons so foolish, so do not trouble to think of them. She felt this was the sensible way out of this oddly sinister situation. And, decently as he could, McClintock was giving the man the boot.
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