"I wish to see the manager as soon as possible," I said to one of the
reception clerks behind the counter.
"Certainly, sir, what name?" he asked; drawing a slip of paper towards
him.
"Courage--" I told him, "Mr. Hardross Courage!"
The man's manner underwent a distinct change.
"I am sorry, sir," he said, "but Mr. Blumentein is engaged. Is there
anything I can do?"
"No!" I answered him bluntly. "I want the manager, and no one else will
do. If he cannot see me now I will wait. If he does not appear in a
reasonable time, I shall go direct to Scotland Yard and lay certain
information before the authorities there."
The clerk stared at me, and then smiled in a tolerant manner. He was
short and dark, and wore glasses. His manner was pleasant enough, but he
had the air of endeavoring to soothe a fractious child--which annoyed me.
"I will send a message down to Mr. Blumentein, sir," he said, "but he is
very busy this morning."
He called a boy, but, after a moment's hesitation, he left the office
himself. I lit a cigarette, and waited with as much patience as I could
command.
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