eBooks Base 2000

Presently, when the orchestra began playing again. Miss Donovan and
Willis judged the pair were giving their attention to the dinner.
Finally, after an hour had passed, Cavendish emerged from the booth,
went to the check-room, and hurriedly left the cafe. Waiting only long
enough to satisfy herself that Cavendish was gone, Celeste La Rue
herself emerged from the booth and paused for a moment beside its
bamboo curtains. Then turning suddenly, she made her way, not toward
the exit of the cafe, but to another small booth near the check-room,
and into this she disappeared.
But before she had started this short journey, a yellow piece of paper,
closely folded, slipped from her belt where it had been tucked.
"It's the telegram! The one of which they were speaking." Miss
Donovan's voice whispered dramatically as her eyes swept the tiny clue
within their ambit.
Willis started. He almost sprung from the booth to pick it up, but the
girl withheld him with a pressure of the hand.
"Not yet," she begged. "Wait until we see who leaves the other booth
into which La Rue just went.


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