“Not now. This has driven everything else out of my head. You don’t know where Jimmy Thesiger is by any chance? I believe he was staying with the Cootes. Is he there still?”
“I think he went back to town yesterday. Bundle and Loraine were over there on Saturday. If you’ll only wait—”
But Bill shook his head energetically and rushed from the room. Lord Caterham tiptoed out into the hall, seized a hat and made a hurried exit by the side door. In the distance he observed Bill streaking down the drive in his car.
“That young man will have an accident,” he thought.
Bill, however, reached London without any mischance, and proceeded to park his car in St. James’s Square. Then he sought out Jimmy Thesiger’s rooms. Jimmy was at home.
“Hullo, Bill. I say, what’s the matter? You don’t look your usual bright little self.”
“I’m worried,” said Bill. “I was worried anyway, and then something else turned up and gave me a jolt.”
“Oh!” said Jimmy. “How lucid! What’s it all about? Can I do anything?”
Bill did not reply. He sat staring at the carpet and looking so puzzled and uncomfortable that Jimmy felt his curiosity aroused.
“Has anything very extraordinary occurred, William?” he asked gently.
“Something damned odd. I can’t make head or tail of it.”
“The Seven Dials business?”
“Yes—the Seven Dials business. I got a letter this morning.”