easily find her. They publish visitors' lists in the papers, don't they, like they do at Hastings?" Then he added, "Visitors' lists are most annoying when you find your name printed in them when you are supposed officially to be somewhere else. I was had once like that by the Bournemouth papers, when I was supposed to be on duty over at Queenstown. I narrowly escaped a terrible wigging."
"Shall we go to Eastbourne?" I suggested eagerly. "I'll go there with you in the morning."
"Or would it not be best to send an urgent wire to the address where I always write? She would then reply here, no doubt. If she's in Eastbourne, there may be reasons why she cannot come up to town. If her people are in hiding, of course she won't come. But she'll make an appointment with me, no doubt."
"Very well. Send a wire," I said. "And make it urgent. It will then be forwarded. But as regards Olinto? Would you like to see him? He might tell you more than he has told me."
"No; by no means. He must not know that I have returned to London," declared my friend quickly. "You had better not see him — you understand."
"Then his interests are — well, not exactly our own?"
"No."
"But why don't you tell me more about Elma?" I urged, for I was eager to learn all he know. "Come, do tell me!" I implored.
"I've told you practically everything, my dear
