May I ask her name?"
"Miss Ernestine Wendermott," Trent answered slowly.
Francis threw away his cigarette and lit another.
"Thank you," he said.
CHAPTER XXXV
Da Souza's office was neither furnished nor located with the idea
of impressing casual visitors. It was in a back-street off an
alley, and although within a stone's throw of Lothbury its immediate
surroundings were not exhilarating. A blank wall faced it, a
green-grocer's shop shared with a wonderful, cellar-like public-house
the honour of its more immediate environment. Trent, whose first
visit it was, looked about him with surprise mingled with some
disgust.
He pushed open the swing door and found himself face to face with
Da Souza's one clerk - a youth of unkempt appearance, shabbily but
flashily dressed, with sallow complexion and eyes set close together.
He was engaged at that particular moment in polishing a large
diamond pin upon the sleeve of his coat, which operation he suspended
to gaze with much astonishment at this unlocked-for visitor. Trent
had come straight from Ascot, straight indeed from his interview
with Francis, and was still wearing his racing-glasses.
"I wish to see Mr. Da Souza," Trent said. "Is he in?"
"I believe so, sir," the boy answered.
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