“I’m sure,” said Forsyth, turning to look at Pardoner, “we both
understand. It’s very natural. The wretched business places you both in
a false position.” He picked up the ring and slid it into an envelope.
“I may add that I look forward confidently to restoring this pretty
thing to you, directly I’m back.” He rose and walked to the door. “And
now, good-bye. Don’t worry, because I’m away. My managing clerk, Maple,
will be at your service.”
As in a dream, Virgil followed Miss Vulliamy down the stairs and out
into the broad square. There she gave him her hand and bade him
farewell.
* * * * *
At half-past ten the next morning Pardoner received a letter of some
importance.
_Private._
_Dear Mr. Pardoner_,
_From the clerk who attended you yesterday, I understand that
you are not proposing at present to leave for Lincolnshire. I
write to beg you to do this without delay._
_What took place at Claridge’s yesterday afternoon makes it
abundantly clear that the person, who called there to meet you,
is no fool. Thanks, no doubt, to the periodicals in which your
photograph has recently so often figured, she is well acquainted
with your looks, and from the papers, which, I understand she
produced, I see no reason to disbelieve that she is, in fact,
Miss Jane Townshend, late of The Rectory, Loughbridge or
Roughbridge, Lincolnshire. It is, of course, a most unfortunate
coincidence that there should be two ladies bearing the very
same name and address, but since such a coincidence exists, it
is not at all easy successfully to contend that this woman’s
possession of your letter is unlawful and was never intended._
_In these circumstances, you will surely appreciate the extreme
desirability of your seeing the other Miss Townshend without
delay, explaining to her the position, and, if possible,
inducing her to come to London at once. Indeed, in my opinion,
her production alone can now snuff this matter out._
_Yours faithfully,_
_F. S. Maple._
Virgil fell upon the telephone.