CHAP. VI"You're a damned bungler, Waterlow. The girl isn't an imbecile, and this place looks as much like a nursing home as it does like a night club."
A big man in a light overcoat was the speaker. His face was coarse and dissipated, and suddenly he pulled a flask from his pocket and took a deep drink. The only other occupant of the room shrugged his shoulders.
"You were in such an infernal hurry," he said, "that this was the best I could do in the time."
"But why were you such a fool as to let her go upstairs," snarled the first speaker. "Her twin; and you imagine she won't spot it."
"Dry up, Barnet," answered the other angrily. "I'm getting fed to the back teeth with you. She said she'd got the thing on her, and I believed her. Even if I hadn't, what do you suggest I should have don
