What of madame, his wife?’ ‘You know more of her than me,’ the girl said with a look of scorn. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. She had called the police on them anonymously. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. Perhaps he had had money in the coat, back in Hong-Kong, and had been robbed without knowing it.
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