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Page 51
She kissed Miss Prendergast and slipped away. What a splendid pair of
women they were: so admirably cool and resourceful: they seemed to have
thought of everything.
"Good night, Miss Prendergast," I said. "You have done me a good turn. I
shall never forget it!" And as the only means at my disposal for showing
my gratitude, I kissed her hand.
She coloured up like a girl.
"It's a long time since any one did that to a silly old woman like me,"
she said musingly. "Was it you or your brother," she asked abruptly,
"who nearly broke my poor girl's heart?"
"I shouldn't like to say," I answered; "but I don't think, speaking
personally, that Monica ever cared enough about me for me to plead
guilty."
She sniffed contemptuously.
"If that is so," she said, "all I can say is that you seem to have all
the brains of your family!"
With that I took my leave.
* * * * *
I reached the ballroom vestibule without meeting a soul. The place was
crowded with people, officers in uniform, glittering with decorations,
women in evening dress, coachmen, footmen, chauffeurs, waiters.
Everybody was talking sixteen to the dozen, and there were such dense
knots of people that at first I couldn't see Monica. Two policemen were
standing at the swing-doors leading into the street, and with them a
civilian who looked like a detective. I caught sight of Monica, almost
at the detective's elbow, talking to two very elegant-looking officers.
I pushed my way across the vestibule, turned my back on the detective
and stood impassively beside her.
"Ah! there you are, Carter!" she said. "Gute Nacht, Herr Baron! Auf
wiedersehen, Durchlaucht!"
The two officers kissed her hand whilst I helped her into her wrap. Then
I marched straight out of the swing-doors in front of her, looking
neither to right nor to left, past the detective and the two policemen.
The detective may have looked at me: if so, I didn't perceive it. I had
made up my mind not to see him.
Outside Monica took the lead and brought me over to a chocolate-coloured
limousine drawn up at the pavement. I noted with dismay that the engine
was stopped. That might mean further delay whilst I cranked up. But a
friendly chauffeur standing by seized the handle and started the engine
whilst I assisted Monica into the car, and the next moment we were
gliding smoothly over the asphalt under the twinkling arc-lamps.
The Bendler-Strasse is off the Tiergarten, not far from the Esplanade,
and I found my way there without much difficulty. I flatter myself that
both Monica and I played our parts well, and I am sure nothing could
have been more professional than the way I helped her to alight. It was
an apartment house and she had the key of the front door, so, after
seeing her safely within doors, I returned to the car and drove it round
to the garage by a carriage-way leading to the rear of the premises.
As I unlocked the double doors of the garage, a man came down a ladder
outside the place leading to the upper room.
"Did it work all right, sir?" he asked.
"Is that Carter?" I said.
"Sure that's me," came the cheery response. "Stand by now and we'll run
her in. Then I'll show you where you are to sleep!"
We stowed the car away and he took me upstairs to his quarters, a bright
little room with electric light, a table with a red cloth, a cheerful
open fire and two beds. The walls were ornamented with pictures cut from
the American Sunday supplements, mostly feminine and horsy studies.
"It's a bit rough, mister," said Carter, "but it's the best I can do.
Gee! but you look that dawg-gorn tired I guess you could sleep
anywheres!"
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