Now in what part of London shall we look for a gambling hell, Mr.
Walmsley? I know of eleven. Name your own street--somewhere in the West
End."

I named one at random.

"The very place!" Mr. Parker declared; "the very place where I have
already an appointment. Get in. Say, you Londoners have no idea what goes
on in your own city!"

We drove to a quiet street not very far from the Ritz Hotel. Mr. Parker
led us across the pavement and we entered a block of flats. The entrance
hall was dimly lit and there seemed to be no one about. Mr. Parker,
however, rang for a lift, which came promptly down.

"You two will stay here," he directed, "for two or three minutes. Then the
lift will come down for you."

He ascended and left us there. I turned at once to Eve, who had scarcely
spoken a word during the drive from the restaurant.

"I do wish you would tell me what is troubling you, Miss Parker," I
begged. "If I am really in the way of course you have only to say the word
and I'll be off at once."

She held my arm for a moment. The touch of her fingers gave me
unreasonable pleasure.

"Please don't think me rude or unkind," she pleaded. "Don't even think
that I don't like your coming along with us--because I do. It isn't that.