No lady had visited Mr. Mildmay to his knowledge. She certainly might have called when he was off duty.
Hence Falconer determined to watch again, and after the lapse of several weary evenings, he one night followed Mildmay to the Savoy, where, just before supper-time, he took a seat in the lounge and idly lit a cigarette.
Ten minutes later Geoffrey saw standing at the head of the short flight of stairs the familiar figure of Madame Claudet, wearing a gorgeous theatre wrap. Her quick eye recognised Mildmay; therefore she went to take off her wrap, and a few moments later joined him.
From a distance Falconer watched them closely. Mildmay’s greeting appeared the reverse of cordial, for on his face was an angry, morose expression. After a brief conversation, they passed into the supper-room, where, in order to escape recognition, Geoffrey was forced to leave them. But he had established the fact of their secret friendship.
Next evening when he went to Upper Brook Street he found Sylvia alone, her mother having gone to the theatre with madame.
“Isn’t it a shame!” she remarked. “Madame Claudet has to go to Paris the day after to-morrow--on some of her horrid banking business again. Mother has introduced her to her bank in Pall Mall, so that she has an account in London, therefore these journeys will be avoided in future.”
Geoffrey, who had not allowed either Mrs. Beverley or her daughter to suspect his doubt concerning the handsome widow, agreed, and expressed a hope that the lady would soon return.
Next day, having to be at Marconi House, he snatched off a few hours in the afternoon, and succeeded in watching madame leave Upper Brook Street alone, and following her to Ryder Street, where she called upon Mildmay. It was very apparent, by the timid way she slipped into the doorway of the chambers, that she feared being watched. Why?
She remained there for about half an hour, when, emerging, the liftman hailed a taxi for her and she drove to Upper Brook Street.
Geoffrey was perplexed why the mysterious Jules in Marseilles should be so concerned regarding madame’s health. Hence he determined to watch her movements closely until she should leave Victoria. That night he did not return to Warley, but slept at his club, and at ten o’clock next morning idled unseen at the corner of Upper Brook Street, in case she should come forth. He had ascertained that she was leaving Victoria at midday.