it he laughed.

"So your mysterious lady of the midnight motor, your Miss Celia Lennard
of the Hull hotel, is the great and only Zélie de Longarde, eh?" he said.
"Well, I guess that makes matters a lot easier and clearer. But you're
sure it isn't a case of striking resemblance?"

"I only saw that woman for a minute or two, by moonlight, when she stuck
her face out of her car to ask the way," replied Allerdyke, "but I'll
lay all I'm worth to a penny-piece that the woman I then saw is the
woman whose picture we're staring at. Great Scott! So she's a famous
singer, is she? You know of her, of course? That sort of thing's not in
my line--never was--I don't go to a concert or a musical party once in
five years."

"Oh, she's great--sure!" responded Fullaway. "Beautiful voice--divine!
And, as I say, things are going to be easy. I've met this lady more than
once, though I didn't know that she'd any other name than that, which is
presumably her professional one, and I've also had one or two business
deals with her. So all we've got to do is to find out which hotel she's
stopping at in this city, and then we'll go round there, and I'll send in
my card. But I say--do you see, this affair's to-night, this very
evening, and at eight o'clock, and it's past seven now. She'll be
arraying herself for the platform. We'd better wait until--"

Allerdyke's practical mind asserted itself. He twisted the American
round in another direction, and called to a porter who had picked up
their bags.

"All that's easy," he said. "We'll stick these things in the left-luggage