CHAPTER 9AT TEN minutes past four, Dan McGrath came back to Number 4 Godolphin Square, so far as he could see not a great deal wiser than he had been when he left it at eleven o’clock in the morning. He had at least learned, for one thing, that there were no copies of that other McGrath’s book in any of the bookstores along Charing Cross Road, that the publisher had not regarded it as of particular importance and that in fact his was the only inquiry they had ever got about it. For another, he had learned, thanks to Betty the chambermaid, that Pegott was lunching with Mr. Eric Dalrymple-Hughes at a place in Regent Street called the Green Parrot.
“Mr. Eric’s turned proper Socialist, sir. I expect he’ll be standing for Parliament one of these days. I’d not have believed it if I’d heard it i
