"You needn't tell me a single word, because I shouldn't believe you if
you did. Are you staying here with your wife?"

"No," Tallente answered. "I am back at my old rooms in Charges Street."

The old lady patted him on the arm and dismissed him.

"You see, I've found out all I wanted to know!" she chuckled.



CHAPTER XII

Dartrey had been called unexpectedly to the north, to a great Labour
conference, and Tallente, waiting for his return, promised within the
next forty-eight hours, found himself rather at a loose end. He avoided
the club, where he would have been likely to meet his late political
associates, and spent the morning after his visit to the Prime Minister
strolling around the Park, paying visits to his tailor and hosier, and
lunched by himself a little sadly in a fashionable restaurant. At five
o'clock he found his way to Westminster and discovered Nora Miall's
flat. A busy young person in pince-nez and a long overall, who
announced herself as Miss Miall's secretary, was in the act of showing
out James Miller as he rang the bell. "Any news?" the latter asked,
after Tallente had found it impossible to avoid shaking hands. "I am
waiting for Mr. Dartrey's return. No, there is no particular news that I
know of."

"Dartrey's had to go north for a few days," Miller confided officiously.