"Where was he living when you saw me last? Well, that's rather a question. I needn't tell you that a good many people would like to know. But as I have every reason to believe that you really are his friend, and have no sympathy with those objectionable creatures, the police, I don't mind telling you. He had rooms at Notting Hill--78 Caversham Street. Mine were close to Brompton Road, and when he wasn't in my rooms I was in his."
Miss Forster was making a note on a sheet of paper.
"78 Caversham Street, Notting Hill. You say that was his address at the time of the Easter ball at Avonham?"
"Exactly, and after what occurred at Avonham I expected that he would return to that address; and I don't mind telling you that when I left I went straight there, to find that he hadn't returned. I was a little surprised, but, of course--in the profession in which he was then engaged, accidents do happen--there's no shutting our eyes to that, is there? There might have been all sorts of reasons why his return had been delayed; but when day after day went by, and still nothing was seen or heard of him, I did begin to wonder."
The lady, pausing, looking down, began to draw figures on the carpet with the end of her parasol, smiling to herself as if in enjoyment of some private joke.
"Most regular in his habits, was Mr. Beaton--you see, I adopt the Mr. in deference to you; I'm always so anxious not to wound people's feelings, especially yours. Everything in his rooms was in perfect order, the rent had been paid up, and the landlady, who was a most innocent creature, and quite attached to her lodger, whom she believed to be something in the commercial way, was not in the least concerned--but I was. You see, I knew. As time went on, and there were still no signs of him, I became positively anxious; I was almost as attached to him as his landlady."
Again--it is necessary to dwell upon the fact, to such an extent was it her most outstanding characteristic--her face was irradiated by her wonderful smile. She continued, with her eyes still cast down.
"I was really concerned; then it occurred to me that probably my distress was wasted, the explanation might be quite simple; seeing you that night had brought his thoughts back to the old channels, and--you knew where he was instead of me. I began to take it for granted that he had exchanged 78 Caversham Street for an address which would be more convenient for you, and less for me--isn't that the case?"