CHAPTER IIIt was two nights later, on the evening of the day when Neil Rockingham had gone to Paris, that Grenville began his researches into the matter of Debrette’s abode.
Walking home in the fog, after his talk with Rockingham, Grenville had done some hard thinking. The story he had heard struck him as peculiar, but he had sensed something odd about Attleton’s behaviour of late. When Grenville had first met him, three years ago, Bruce Attleton had been a cheery soul, a bit caustic in wit, perhaps, a little on the precious side, but good company, and full of mirth. Recently his good humour had deserted him and he had become increasingly irritable and nervy, so that his friends found him a trial and his wife grew tired of his captiousness. Grenville, observant and keen-witted, guessed th
