All these things having been accomplished, Tommy Hambledon in their sitting-room at the hotel said: “One last drink? I think so; it’s a pity to leave this whisky to the waiter; it might give him ideas above his station. Well—cheerio.”
“Prosit!” said Bill.
“We will take the car along and leave it in the Reichenperger Platz. After which I think you had better precede me and I will follow just behind like the celebrated lamb I so much resemble. Well, are you ready? Forward, and St. George for merry England!”
Dirk Brandt rang the bell at von Bodenheim’s house and was admitted as usual by Hans and shown into the sitting-room at the back, where a fire was blazing in the fireplace opposite the door, and the long french windows were curtained against the January night.
“Come in,” said von Bode
