VI - The Little Dinner
THE NEXT MORNING AT eight o’clock, Morton, the day doorman, came on duty.
Corson eagerly began at once to question him, and he told the story of Sir Herbert Binney’s departure from the house, but there his information ended.
“All I know is, Mr Binney went away from here in a taxicab, ‘long about half-past six, I think it was. And he went to the Hotel Magnifique,—at least, that’s what he told the driver. And that’s the last I saw of him. But his man, Peters, is due any minute,—maybe he’ll know more.”
“Peters? A valet?”
“Yes, and general factotum. He comes every morning at eight, and takes care of his boss.”
And in a few moments Peters arrived. His shocked astonishment at the news was too patently real to give the slightest grounds of suspicion that he had any kn
