"I am very much disposed," he said, "to accept Lord Runton's offer. Have
you any objection?"
"Of course I have," Duncombe answered. "You are working for me."
"Was working for you," Spencer corrected gently. "That is all over,
isn't it?"
"What do you mean?" Duncombe exclaimed.
Spencer stood squarely upon his feet. He looked a little tired.
"My engagement from you was to find Miss Phyllis Poynton," he said
softly. "You and I are perfectly well aware that the young lady in
question is--well, a few yards behind that curtain," he said, motioning
with his head towards it. "My task is accomplished, and I consider
myself a free man."
Duncombe was silent for a moment. He walked restlessly to the window and
back again.
"How did you find out that she was here?" he asked.
Spencer looked a little disgusted.
"My dear fellow," he said, "any one with the brains of a mouse must have
discovered that. Why, Lord Runton, without any of the intimations which
I have received, is a little suspicious. That is merely a matter of A B
C. There were difficulties, I admit, and I am sorry to say that I have
never solved them. I cannot tell you at this moment how it comes about
that a young lady, brought up in the country here, and from all I can
learn an ordinary, unambitious, virtuous sort of young person, should
disappear from England in search of a missing brother, and return in a
few months the companion of one of the most dangerous and brilliant
members of the French secret service.
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