“Your hotel is the de l’Europe, I believe?”

“But unfortunately I am rarely at home,” I said ungraciously.

“I am disappointed. We might have spent 108an agreeable hour together in this barbarous capital. Au revoir.”

108

I bowed, and went swiftly up the steps. Again he called me.

“By the way, Mrs. Gordon tells me, Mr. Hume, that she has entrusted the old clock to you.”

“That is quite true.”

He looked at me keenly.

“Ah, then, now I understand your interest in automaton clocks. Your interest awakens mine. I myself am anxious to see the clock again. When will you be in Venice?”

“In a month or two,” I answered airily.

“A month or two, my dear friend!” he expostulated. “I must see my clock before that. I am thinking of having it repaired for Mrs. Gordon.”

He emphasized the “my.”

“I have thought of the same thing,” I said evasively.

“But, Mr. Hume, I beg you to understand that it is with Mrs. Gordon’s permission that I do so. Have you asked it?”

“Not yet,” I replied coolly, going up a couple of steps.

His face darkened.

“Then, since I have Mrs. Gordon’s permission, 109will you kindly write an order to your servant that he give it me on my return to Venice?”

109

“Unfortunately, that is impossible. You see, I have forestalled you. I have sent it to be repaired.”

He stood a moment, twisting his mustache up into his eyes. Then, to my astonishment, he leaped up the steps, two at a time.

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