At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. None this end. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. Spurlock to keep to the bungalow until the rogue goes back to Copeley's. She watched, puzzled, as her cavalier frowned at the newcomer, glancing from him to Melusine and back again. ‘Me and the butler didn’t see eye to eye. We’re handfuls. It's of no use. For a time I must do journalism and work hard.
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