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"What fools we were not to have thought of it before. I was rooting out a drawer of papers and came across the card. You remember he handed us one all round the first day we met him. I put it away I'm rather a methodical devil with papers, as you know. When I found it, I danced a hornpipe all round the room and went straight off to Conto and Blag.
"How did you find me?" "Through Conto and Blag. I tried all other means, you may be sure. But now I've found you I shan't let you go again." This was not the time for elaborate explanations. She asked for none. When one is very ill one takes the most unlikely happenings as commonplace occurrences. It seemed enough to her that I was by her side.
Suppose Messrs. Conto and Blag had given Dale erroneous information! I grew sick and faint at the thought. What laughter there would be in Olympus over my fool journey! In great agitation I clamoured for a programme of the Winter Garten entertainment. The hotel clerk put it into my trembling hands.
He burst in upon me one day, flourishing a large visiting-card, which he flung down on the table before my eyes. "Do you recognise that?" It was the familiar professional card of the unhappy Anastasius. "Yes." "Do you see the last line?" I read "London Agents: Messrs. Conto and Blag, 172 Maiden Lane, W.C." I looked up. "Well?" I asked. "It has done the trick," said he triumphantly.
He pulled out of his breast pocket an enormous gilt-bound pocket-book, bearing a gilt monogram of such size that it looked like a cartouche on an architectural panel, and selected therefrom three cards which he gravely distributed among us. They bore the legend: PROFESSOR ANASTASIUS PAPADOPOULOS London Agents: MESSRS. CONTO & BLAG, 172 Maiden Lane, W.C.
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