She left the hotel on foot after lunch
this afternoon with my two fellows in her wake. There was a bit
of a crush on the pavement near Charing Cross and Duff was pushed
into the roadway and run over by a motor-'bus. In the confusion
Gordon lost the trail. He's wasted all this time trying to pick
it up again instead of reporting to me at once."
"Zut!" cried the Frenchman.
CHAPTER XI. CREDENTIALS
The sight of Nur-el-Din filled Desmond with alarm. For a moment
his mind was overshadowed by the dread of detection. He had
forgotten all about Mr. Crook's handiwork in the train, and his
immediate fear was that the dancer would awake and recognize him.
But then he caught sight of his face in the mirror over the
mantelpiece. The grave bearded man staring oddly at him out of
the glass gave him a shock until he realized the metamorphosis
that had taken place in his personality. The realization served
instantly to still his apprehension.
Nur-el-Din lay on her side, one hand under her face which was
turned away from the fire. She was wearing a big black musquash
coat, and over her feet she had flung a tweed overcoat,
apparently one of Mr. Bellward's from the hatstand in the hall.
Her hat, a very dainty little affair of plain black velvet, was
skewered with a couple of jewelled hatpins to the upholstery of
the settee.
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