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Mademoiselle Idiale's Visit
Laverick, on the following morning, found many things to think about. He was
accustomed to lunch always at the same restaurant, within a few yards of his office, and
with the same little company of friends. Just as he was leaving, an outside broker whom
he knew slightly came across the room to him.
"Tell me, Laverick," he asked, "what's become of your partner?"
"He has gone abroad for a few weeks. As a matter of fact, we shall be announcing a
change in the firm shortly."
"Queer thing," the broker remarked. "I was in Liverpool yesterday, and I could have
sworn that I saw him hanging around the docks. I should never have doubted it, but
Morrison was always so careful about his appearance, and this fellow was such a seedy-
looking individual. I called out to him and he vanished like a streak."
"It could scarcely have been Morrison," Laverick said. "He sailed several days ago for
New York."
"That settles it," the man declared, passing on. "All the same, it was the most
extraordinary likeness I ever saw."
Laverick, on his way back, went into a cable office and wrote out a marconigram to the
Have you passenger Arthur Morrison on board? Reply.
He signed his name and paid for an answer. Then he went back to his office.
"Any one to see me?" he inquired.
"Mr. Shepherd is here waiting," his clerk told him, - "queer looking fellow who paid you
two hundred and fifty pounds in cash for some railway stock."
Laverick nodded.
"I'll see him," he said. "Anything else?"
"A lady rang up - name sounded like a French one, but we could none of us catch what it
was - to say that she was coming down to see you."
"If it is Mademoiselle Idiale," Laverick directed, "I must see her directly she arrives. How
are you, Shepherd?" he added, nodding to the waiter as he passed towards his room.
"Come in, will you? You've got your certificates all right?"