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evidence.

      “Was she alone?”

      “She was.”

      “What fare did she pay you?”

      “The meter only registered eightpence, but she gave me half-a-crown.”

      “Did she appear to be ill?”

      “Very ill. She wore no hat, and I supposed her to be in evening dress.

      She almost fell as she got out of the cab, but managed to get into

      the hall of Palace Mansions quickly enough, looking behind her all the

      time.”

      Inspector Dunbar shot out the hypnotic finger again.

      “She told you to wait!” he asserted, positively. Brian looked to right

      and left, up and down, thrusting his hands into his coat pockets, and

      taking them out again to stroke his collarless neck. Then:--

      “She did--yes,” he admitted.

      “But you were bribed to drive away? Don't deny it! Don't dare to trifle

      with me, or by God! you'll spend the night in Brixton Jail!”

      “It was made worth my while,” muttered Brian, his voice beginning to

      break, “to hop it.”

      “Who paid you to do it?”

      “A man who had followed all the way in a big car.”

      “That's it! Describe him!”

      “I can't! No, no! you can threaten as much as you like, but I can't

      describe him. I never saw his face. He stood behind me on the near side

      of the cab, and just reached forward and pushed a flyer under my nose.”

      Inspector Dunbar searched the speaker's face closely--and concluded that

      he was respecting the verity.

      “How was he dressed?”

      “In black, and that's all I can tell you about him.”

      “You took the money?”

      “I took the money, yes”...

      “What did he say to you?”

      “Simply: 'Drive off.'”

      “Did you take him to be an Englishman from his speech?”

      “No; he was not an Englishman. He had a foreign accent.”

      “French? German?”

      “No,” said Brian, looking up and meeting the glance of the fierce eyes.

      “Asiatic!”

      Inspector Dunbar, closely as he held himself in hand, started slightly.

      “Are you sure?”

      “Certainly. Before I--when I was younger--I traveled in the East, and I

      know the voice and intonation of the cultured Oriental.”

      “Can you place him any closer than that?”

      “No, I can't venture to do so.” Brian's manner was becoming,

      momentarily, more nearly that of a gentleman. “I might be leading you

      astray if I ventured a guess, but if you asked me to do so, I should say

      he was a Chinaman.”

      “A CHINAMAN?” Dunbar's voice rose excitedly.

      “I think so.”

      “What occurred next?”

      “I turned my cab and drove off out of the Square.”

      “Did you see where the man went?”

      “I didn't. I saw nothing of him beyond his hand.”

      “And his hand?”

      “He wore a glove.”

      “And now,” said Dunbar, speaking very slowly, “where did you pick up

      your fare?”

      “In Gillingham Street, near Victoria Station.”

      “From a house?”

      “Yes, from Nurse Proctor's.”

      “Nurse Proctor's! Who is Nurse Proctor?”

      Brian shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner, which obviously

      belonged to an earlier phase of existence.

      “She keeps a nursing home,” he said--“for ladies.”

      “Do you mean a maternity home?”

      “Not exactly; at least I don't think so. Most of her clients are society

      ladies, who stay there periodically.”

      “What are you driving at?” demanded Dunbar. “I have asked you if it is a

      maternity home.”

      “And I have replied that it isn't. I am only giving you facts; you don't

      want my surmises.”

      “Who hailed you?”

      “The woman did--the woman in the fur coat. I was just passing the door

      very slowly when it was flung open with a bang, and she rushed out as

      though hell were after her. Before I had time to pull up, she threw

      herself into my cab and screamed: 'Palace Mansions! Westminster!' I

      reached back and shut the door, and drove right away.”

      “When did you see that you were followed?”

      “We were held up just outside the music hall, and looking back, I saw

      that my fare was dreadfully excited. It didn't take me long to find out

      that the cause of her excitement was a big limousine, three or four back

      in the block of traffic. The driver was some kind of an Oriental, too,

      although I couldn't make him out very clearly.”

      “Good!” snapped Dunbar; “that's important! But you saw nothing more of

      this car?”...

      “I saw it follow me into the Square.”

      “Then where did it wait?”

      “I don't know; I didn't see it again.”

      Inspector Dunbar nodded rapidly.

      “Have you ever driven women to or from this Nurse Proctor's before?”

      “On two other occasions, I have driven ladies who came from there. I

      knew they came from there, because it got about amongst us that the tall

      woman in nurse's uniform who accompanied them was Nurse Proctor.”

      “You mean that you didn't take these women actually from the door of the

      house in Gillingham Street, but from somewhere adjacent?”

      “Yes; they never take a cab from the door. They always walk to the

      corner of the street with a nurse, and a porter belonging to the house

      brings

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