He had chanced to
be passing the Club when Sir Brian and M. Max had come out, and, fearful
that the presence of the tall stranger portended some new move on the
Frenchman's part, Sowerby had followed, hoping to glean something by
persistency when clues were unobtainable by other means. He had had no
time to make inquiries of the porter of the Club respecting the identity
of M. Max's companion, and thus, as has appeared, he did not obtain the
desired information until his arrival in Piccadilly.
Turning over these matters in his mind, Sowerby stood watching the block
of buildings across the road. He saw a light spring into being in a room
overlooking Piccadilly, a room boasting a handsome balcony. This took
place some two minutes after the departure of the lift bearing Sir Brian
and his guest upward; so that Sowerby permitted himself to conclude that
the room with the balcony belonged to Sir Brian Malpas.
He watched the lighted window aimlessly and speculated upon the nature
of the conversation then taking place up there above him. Had he
possessed the attributes of a sparrow, he thought, he might have flown
up to that balcony and have "got level" with this infernally clever
Frenchman who was almost certainly going to pull off the case under the
very nose of Scotland Yard.
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