And then Spencer's telegram. What
does it mean?"
"Be reasonable, old fellow!" Duncombe answered. "You knew Phyllis
Poynton well. Do you believe that she would be content to masquerade
under a false name, invent a father, be received here--Heaven knows
how--and meet you, an old friend, as a stranger? The thing's absurd,
isn't it?"
"Granted. But what about Spencer's telegram?"
"It is an enigma, of course. We can only wait for his solution. I have
wired him the information he asked for. In the meantime----"
"Well, in the meantime?"
"There is nothing to be gained by framing absurd hypotheses. I don't
mind telling you, Andrew, that I find Miss Fielding the most delightful
girl I ever met in my life."
"Tell me exactly, George, how she compares with the photograph you have
of Phyllis Poynton."
Duncombe sipped his wine slowly.
"She is very like it," he said, "and yet there are differences. She is
certainly a little thinner and taller. The features are similar, but the
hair is quite differently arranged. I should say that Miss Fielding is
two or three years older than Phyllis Poynton, and she has the air of
having travelled and been about more.
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