He passed through the turnstile door and disappeared. Pamela made her adieux to Holderness and his sister, and then, recognising some acquaintances, turned back into the restaurant to speak to them. Fischer, who had just received his hat and cane from the cloakroom attendant, stood watching her.
Pamela, after a brief conversation with her friends, once more left the restaurant. In the lobby she called Ferrani to her.
"Has Mr. Fischer gone, Ferrani?" she asked.
"Not two minutes ago," the man replied. "You wish to speak to him? I can stop him even now."
"On the contrary," she said drily, "Mr. Fischer represents a type of my countrymen of whom I am not very fond. He is a great patron of yours, is he not?"
"He is a large shareholder in the company," Ferrani confessed.
"Then your restaurant will prosper," she told him. "Mr. Fischer has the name of being very fortunate.... That was a wonderful luncheon you gave us to-day."
Ferrani's gesture was all-expressive. Words were entirely superfluous.
"I want two addresses, please. First, the address of Joseph, your head musician, and, secondly, the address of Hassan, your coffee-maker."
Ferrani effectually concealed any surprise he might have felt. He tore a page from his pocket-book.
"Both I know," he declared. "Hassan lodges at a shop eighty yards away. The name is Haines, and there are newspaper placards outside the door."
"As for Monsieur Joseph," Ferrani continued, "that is a different matter. He has, I understand, a small flat in Tower Mansions, Tower Street, leading off the Edgware Road. The number is 18C. So!"
He wrote it down and passed it to her. Pamela thanked him and stood up.
"Now that I have done as you asked me," Ferrani concluded, "let me add a word. Both these men are already off duty and have left the restaurant. If you wish to communicate with either of them, I advise you to do so by letter."
"You are a very courteous gentleman, Mr. Ferrani," Pamela declared, dropping him a little mock curtsey, "and good morning!"
She made her way into the street outside, shook her head to the commissionaire's upraised whistle, and strolled along until she came to a cross street down which several motor-cars were waiting. She approached one--a very handsome limousine--and checked the driver who would have sprung from his seat.