He was doing his best to explain with a pencil on the back of an illustrated paper some new system of wool-bleaching.
"Mr.Coulson," the Inspector said suddenly, "do you know a young lady named Miss Penelope Morse ?" It was here, perhaps, that Mr.Coulson sank a little from the heights of complete success.

He repeated the name, and obviously took time to think before he answered.
"Miss Penelope Morse," the Inspector continued.

"She is a young American lady, who lives with an invalid aunt in Park Lane, and who is taken everywhere by the Duchess of Devenham, another aunt, I believe." "I suppose I may say that I am acquainted with her," Mr.Coulson admitted.

"She came here the other evening with a young man--Sir Charles Somerfield." "Ah!" the Inspector murmured.
"She'd read that interview of mine with the Comet man," Mr.Coulson said, "and she fancied that perhaps I could tell her something about Hamilton Fynes." "First time you'd met her, I suppose ?" the Inspector remarked.
"Sure!" Mr.Coulson answered.

"As a matter of fact, I know very few of my compatriots over here.