CHAPTER VI 

THE VANISHING LADY 

At precisely half-past nine on the following evening Duncombe alighted from his _petite voiture_ in the courtyard of the Grand Hotel, and making his way into the office engaged a room. And then he asked the question which a hundred times on the way over he had imagined himself asking. A man to whom nervousness in any shape was almost unknown, he found himself only able to control his voice and manner with the greatest difficulty. In a few moments he might see her. 

"You have a young English lady--Miss Poynton--staying here, I believe," he said. "Can you tell me if she is in now?" 

The clerk looked at him with sudden interest. 

"Miss Poynton is staying here, sir," he said. "I do not believe that she is in just now. Will you wait one moment?" 

He disappeared rapidly, and was absent for several minutes. When he returned he came out into the reception hall. 

"The manager would be much obliged if you would step into his office for a moment, sir," he said confidentially. "Will you come this way?" 

Duncombe followed him into a small room behind the counter. A gray-haired man rose from his desk and saluted him courteously. 

"Sir George Duncombe, I believe," he said. "Will you kindly take a seat?" 

Duncombe did as he was asked. All the time he felt that the manager was scrutinizing him curiously. 

"Your clerk," he said, "told me that you wished to speak to me." 

"Exactly!" the manager answered. "You inquired when you came in for Miss Poynton. May I ask--are you a friend of hers?" 
What happened the next night?
on the following evening Duncombe alighted from his _petite voiture_ in the courtyard of the Grand Hotel, and making his way into the office engaged a room