were off to the Theatre Royal.
Our seats were near the front. We had an excellent view of Signor Caravelli's tonsils, as he stood with his head back, hollering in Italian. His singing reminded me for the world of the concert provided by the cats in the front yard last night.
Halfway through the first recital, Dalton leaned aside and whispered, "Could I borrow one of your slippers?"
"My aim is better."
"We'll leave at the first intermission."
A lady in front of us turned around and said, "Hush!" in a most impertinent way. We hushed, and had to satisfy our high taste by nonverbal grimaces after that.
"I had no idea an hour could be so long," Dalton said, when the first intermission finally came. "Let us go to the lobby and show off your necklace before we leave."
"The man sounds as if he were drowning. Such an artificial vibrato," Lady Filmore said.
"We'll leave before the torture resumes," Dalton said.
She accompanied us into the squeeze of the lobby but darted off as soon as we got there. I saw from the corner of my eye that she was chasing after Harelson. Poor girl. Someone ought to tip her the clue not to hound him so. Nothing was more likely to make him run for the hills.
We met up with Hennie and Lord Brockley. That misguided gentleman praised Caravelli to the ceiling. Hennie, whom I can only assume had taken leave of either her hearing or her senses, seconded him in his praise.
Lady Filmore succeeded in catching Harelson, and they joined us, bringing wine with them, which was very welcome.
"A grand concert," Brockley said again.
"Very nice indeed," Harelson agreed.
"I think it is horrid. We are leaving before the second half," I announced.
Linda wore a scheming face.
"Must we leave?" she said. "I would like to stay for the second half. Harelson, will you give me a drive home?" So that was what she was up to. "You can take Richard's seat for the second half," she continued, not giving him time to think up an excuse. "It is much better than yours."
Harelson hadn't much choice but to agree. He did so with a good grace, like the gentleman he was.
"Where is Mr. Grindley this evening, Lord Harelson?" I asked, just out of idle curiosity.
"Out spending his money," he laughed. His eyes widened a little as they discovered my pearls. "He tells me he won at cards last night. A fool and his money are soon parted. He has already replaced his curricle and team, and will come home with his pockets to let tonight, if I know anything."
"That would be at Mrs. Lament's that he won last night? You mentioned he was going there, I think."
"He did not show up, actually. He fell into a game with some chaps at the inn. He did not even know them; he was fortunate they were not Captain Sharps. I understand he is playing at the inn again this evening."
"With the same men?" I inquired, thinking Officer Hutton could check up on this.
"I believe he said last night's companions were traveling salesmen, and were moving on today. There is a sort of floating card game that goes on at the Rose and Thorn. That was his destination. I asked him to come here instead, but Grindley has no taste for music." His eyes returned once or twice to my pearls as we spoke, but he did not compliment me on them.
We talked for a few minutes, then some other people joined us, and Harelson and Lady Filmore went to join a younger set. When the bell for the second half of the concert rang, Dalton and I headed for the street door.
I said, "You heard what Harelson said about Grindley? A pair of traveling salesmen make a good excuse for a sudden fortune. No one can check his story. He did not turn up at Mrs. Lament's, where Harelson was expecting him."
"I can check whether he played cards at the inn."
"I am sure he did—using the money he stole from Lady Harkness as his stake. Did the man from Bow Street arrive, Mr. Dalton? This would be a good chance to check Grindley's rooms, while he and Harelson are both out."
"He will be arriving tomorrow
Our seats were near the front. We had an excellent view of Signor Caravelli's tonsils, as he stood with his head back, hollering in Italian. His singing reminded me for the world of the concert provided by the cats in the front yard last night.
Halfway through the first recital, Dalton leaned aside and whispered, "Could I borrow one of your slippers?"
"My aim is better."
"We'll leave at the first intermission."
A lady in front of us turned around and said, "Hush!" in a most impertinent way. We hushed, and had to satisfy our high taste by nonverbal grimaces after that.
"I had no idea an hour could be so long," Dalton said, when the first intermission finally came. "Let us go to the lobby and show off your necklace before we leave."
"The man sounds as if he were drowning. Such an artificial vibrato," Lady Filmore said.
"We'll leave before the torture resumes," Dalton said.
She accompanied us into the squeeze of the lobby but darted off as soon as we got there. I saw from the corner of my eye that she was chasing after Harelson. Poor girl. Someone ought to tip her the clue not to hound him so. Nothing was more likely to make him run for the hills.
We met up with Hennie and Lord Brockley. That misguided gentleman praised Caravelli to the ceiling. Hennie, whom I can only assume had taken leave of either her hearing or her senses, seconded him in his praise.
Lady Filmore succeeded in catching Harelson, and they joined us, bringing wine with them, which was very welcome.
"A grand concert," Brockley said again.
"Very nice indeed," Harelson agreed.
"I think it is horrid. We are leaving before the second half," I announced.
Linda wore a scheming face.
"Must we leave?" she said. "I would like to stay for the second half. Harelson, will you give me a drive home?" So that was what she was up to. "You can take Richard's seat for the second half," she continued, not giving him time to think up an excuse. "It is much better than yours."
Harelson hadn't much choice but to agree. He did so with a good grace, like the gentleman he was.
"Where is Mr. Grindley this evening, Lord Harelson?" I asked, just out of idle curiosity.
"Out spending his money," he laughed. His eyes widened a little as they discovered my pearls. "He tells me he won at cards last night. A fool and his money are soon parted. He has already replaced his curricle and team, and will come home with his pockets to let tonight, if I know anything."
"That would be at Mrs. Lament's that he won last night? You mentioned he was going there, I think."
"He did not show up, actually. He fell into a game with some chaps at the inn. He did not even know them; he was fortunate they were not Captain Sharps. I understand he is playing at the inn again this evening."
"With the same men?" I inquired, thinking Officer Hutton could check up on this.
"I believe he said last night's companions were traveling salesmen, and were moving on today. There is a sort of floating card game that goes on at the Rose and Thorn. That was his destination. I asked him to come here instead, but Grindley has no taste for music." His eyes returned once or twice to my pearls as we spoke, but he did not compliment me on them.
We talked for a few minutes, then some other people joined us, and Harelson and Lady Filmore went to join a younger set. When the bell for the second half of the concert rang, Dalton and I headed for the street door.
I said, "You heard what Harelson said about Grindley? A pair of traveling salesmen make a good excuse for a sudden fortune. No one can check his story. He did not turn up at Mrs. Lament's, where Harelson was expecting him."
"I can check whether he played cards at the inn."
"I am sure he did—using the money he stole from Lady Harkness as his stake. Did the man from Bow Street arrive, Mr. Dalton? This would be a good chance to check Grindley's rooms, while he and Harelson are both out."
"He will be arriving tomorrow
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