Githens.
"Mr.--Mr.--the gentleman whom you accuse is an American citizen!" she
stammered.
"Oho! Then he is not an Englishman?"
"I refuse to answer your questions. You are impertinent. I ask you, sir,
as the manager of this hotel, to eject this man from my rooms." The
manager smiled blandly and did not eject the man.
"But, madam," he said, "we have a right to know who and what you are. If
Mr. Medcroft is in London, this gentleman surely cannot be he, the real
Mr. Medcroft. We must have an explanation."
"I'll--I will explain everything to-morrow. Oh, by the way, is there a
telegram for me in the office? There must be. I've been expecting it all
day. I telegraphed to London for it."
"There is no telegram down there, madam."
At this juncture Mr. Odell-Carney appeared on the scene, uninvited but
welcome.
"Wot's all this?" he demanded sternly. Everybody proceeded at once to
tell him. Somehow he got the drift of the story. "Get out--all of you!"
he said. "I stand sponsor for Mrs. Medcroft. She _is_ Mrs. Medcroft,
hang you, sir. If you come around here bothering her again, I'll have
the law upon you. The Medcrofts are English citizens and--"
"Oh, they are, are they?" sneered Mr. Githens, with a sinister chuckle.
"Who the devil are you, sir?"
"I'm from Scotland Yard."
"I thought so. You've proved it, 'pon my soul. I am Odell-Carney.
Daresay you've heard of me.
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