"All right," he said, "but--take another man with you. Two are better than one in a job like that--and Chestermarke might be meeting that woman again. Watch the house carefully tomorrow morning from first thing--follow him wherever he goes. If he should meet the woman, and they part after meeting, one of you follow her. And listen--I shall be at headquarters at twelve o'clock tomorrow. Contrive to telephone me there as to what you're doing. But--don't lose him--or her, if you see her again." "One thing more," said Gandam, as he rose to go. "Supposing he goes off by train? Do I follow?" "No," answered Starmidge after a moment's reflection, "but manage to find out where he goes." He sat and thought a long time after his visitor had left, and his thoughts all centred on one fact: the undoubted fact that Gabriel Chestermarke and Mrs. Carswell had met. CHAPTER XXV THE PORTRAIT The offices of Mr. Godwin Markham, at which the two detectives presented themselves soon after half-past ten next morning, were by no means extensive in size or palatial in appearance. They were situated in the second floor of a building in Conduit Street, and apparently consisted of no more than two rooms, which, if not exactly shabby, were somewhat well-worn as to furniture and fittings. It was evident, too, that Mr. Godwin Markham's clerical staff was not extensive. There was a young man clerk, and a young woman clerk in the outer office: the first was turning over a pile of circulars at the counter; the second, seated at a typewriter, was taking down a letter which was being dictated to her by a man who, still hatted and overcoated, had evidently just arrived, and was leaning against the mantelpiece with his hands in his pockets. He was a very ordinary, plain-countenanced, sandy-haired, quite commercial-looking man, this, who might have been anything from a Stock Exchange clerk to a suburban house-agent. But there was a sudden alertness in his eye as he turned it on the visitors, which showed them that he was well equipped in mental acuteness, and probably as alert as his features were commonplace. The circular-sorting young man looked up with indifference as Easleby approached the counter, and when the detective asked if Mr. Godwin Markham could be seen, turned silently and interrogatively to the man who leaned against the mantelpiece. He, interrupting his dictation, came forward again, narrowly but continually eyeing the two men. "Mr. Markham is not in town, gentlemen," he said, in a quick, business-like fashion, which convinced Starmidge that the speaker was not uttering any mere excuse. "He was here yesterday for an hour or two, but he will be away for some days now. Can I do anything for you?--his manager." Easleby handed over the two professional cards which he had in readiness, and leaned across the counter. "A word or two in private," he whispered confidentially. "Business matter."