"
Andrew struck the table a mighty blow with his clenched fist.
"I knew it!" he cried. "It was her laugh, her voice. Phyllis Poynton is
there!"
Duncombe looked at his friend incredulously.
"My dear Andrew," he said, "be reasonable. The young lady and her father
in that omnibus were introduced to me by Runton himself as Mr. and Miss
Fielding. They are going to his house as his guests. Naturally,
therefore, he knows all about them. Miss Poynton, as you have told me
more than once, is an orphan."
"Common-sense won't even admit it as a matter of argument," Andrew said.
"I know that quite well. But how do you account for Spencer's telegram?"
"Remember that he is a newspaper correspondent," Duncombe said. "He has
many interests and many friends with whom he is constantly exchanging
information. It is a coincidence, I admit. But the wildest flight of
imagination could not make any more of it."
"You must be right," Andrew said quietly. "It all sounds, and is, so
convincing. But I wish that I had not heard that laugh!"
CHAPTER XV
MISS FIELDING FROM AMERICA
Duncombe leaned his gun up against a gate. A few yards away his host was
talking to the servants who had brought down luncheon.
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