THE VANISHING LADY At precisely half-past nine on the following evening Duncombe alighted from his _petite voiture_ in the courtyard of the Grand Hotel, and making his way into the office engaged a room.

And then he asked the question which a hundred times on the way over he had imagined himself asking.

A man to whom nervousness in any shape was almost unknown, he found himself only able to control his voice and manner with the greatest difficulty.

In a few moments he might see her.
"You have a young English lady--Miss Poynton--staying here, I believe," he said.

"Can you tell me if she is in now ?" The clerk looked at him with sudden interest.
"Miss Poynton is staying here, sir," he said.