who your were. I'm going on another tack; I'm
trying to
find out by various little tests who I am NOT - that will
narrow the range of
uncertainty down a bit. You may have
noticed, for
instance, that I'm lunching
principally off
lobster Newburg."
Jerton had not ventured to notice anything of the
sort.
"It's an
extravagance, because it's one of the most
expensive dishes on the menu, but at any rate it proves
that I'm not Lady Starping; she never touches shell-fish,
and poor Lady Braddleshrub has no
digestion at all; if I
am HER I shall certainly die in agony in the course of
the afternoon, and the duty of
finding out who I am will
devolve on the press and the police and those sort of
people; I shall be past caring. Lady Knewford doesn't
know one rose from another and she hates men, so she
wouldn't have
spoken to you in any case; and Lady
Mousehilton flirts with every man she meets - I haven't
flirted with you, have I?"
Jerton
hastily gave the required assurance.
"Well, you see," continued the lady, "that knocks
four off the list at once."
"It'll be rather a lengthy process bringing the list
down to one," said Jerton.
"Oh, but, of course, there are heaps of them that I
couldn't possibly be - women who've got grandchildren or
sons old enough to have
celebrated their coming of age.
I've only got to consider the ones about my own age. I
tell you how you might help me this afternoon, if you
don't mind; go through any of the back numbers of COUNTRY
LIFE and those sort of papers that you can find in the
smoking-room, and see if you come across my
portrait with
infant son or anything of that sort. It won't take you
ten minutes. I'll meet you in the
lounge about tea-time.
Thanks
awfully."
And the Fair Unknown, having
graciously pressed
Jerton into the search for her lost
identity, rose and
left the room. As she passed the young man's table she
halted for a moment and whispered:
"Did you notice that I tipped the
waiter a shilling?
We can cross Lady Ulwight off the list; she would have
died rather than do that."
At five o'clock Jerton made his way to the hotel
lounge; he had spent a
diligent but fruitless quarter of
an hour among the illustrated weeklies in the smoking-
room. His new
acquaintance was seated at a small tea-
table, with a
waiter hovering in attendance.
"China tea or Indian?" she asked as Jerton came up.
"China, please, and nothing to eat. Have you
discovered anything?"
"Only
negative information. I'm not Lady Befnal.
She disapproves
dreadfully of any form of gambling, so
when I recognised a
well-known book maker in the hotel
lobby I went and put a tenner on an unnamed filly by
William the Third out of Mitrovitza for the three-fifteen
race. I suppose the fact of the animal being nameless
was what attracted me."
Did it win?" asked Jerton.
"No, came in fourth, the most irritating thing a
horse can do when you've backed it win or place. Anyhow,
I know now that I'm not Lady Befnal."
"It seems to me that the knowledge was rather dearly
bought," commented Jerton.
"Well, yes, it has rather cleared me out," admitted
the
identity-seeker; "a
florin is about all I've got left
on me. The
lobster Newburg made my lunch rather an
expensive one, and, of course, I had to tip that boy for
what he did to the Kestrel-Smith locks. I've got rather
a useful idea, though. I feel certain that I belong to
the Pivot Club; I'll go back to town and ask the hall
porter there if there are any letters for me. He knows
all the members by sight, and if there are any letters or
telephone messages
waiting for me of course that will
solve the problem. If he says there aren't any I shall
say: 'You know who I am, don't you?' so I'll find out
anyway."