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Updated: May 22, 2025
Nevill and Jimmie Drexell, who had arrived a short time before, greeted him hilariously. The table was laid for Nevill and his guests in the coffee-room of the Roebuck, as cheerful and snug a place as can be found anywhere, with its snowy linen and shining silver and cut-glass, its buffet temptingly spread, and on the walls a collection of paintings that any collector might envy.
"I shall be glad to help you to do anything in my power to clear your friend. I believe that he is innocent. Your sad story has awakened old memories, Mr. Drexell. And it is a great shock to me, as you will understand when I tell you all. I seldom read the London papers, and it comes as a blow and a surprise to me that Diane Merode has been murdered."
The sale of his mother's London residence, a narrow little house in Bayswater, put him in possession of a fairly large sum of money. He left Paris with his friend Jimmie Drexell, and the two spent a year in Italy, Holland and Algeria, doing pretty hard work in the way of sketching. Jack returned to Paris quite cured, and with a determination to win success in his calling.
And he lost no time in making the most of his clew, wild and improbable as it seemed. On the day of the inquiry at Great Marlborough street, about five o'clock in the afternoon, Jimmie Drexell walked slowly and thoughtfully up the Quadrant. The weather had turned cold, and his top hat and fur-lined coat gave him the appearance of an actor in luck.
With a savage oath he put on his hat, and went down into Jermyn street. He walked slowly in the direction of the Albany, where Jimmie Drexell had been fortunate enough to secure a couple of chambers. The afternoon post brought Jack the invitation to dinner for the following night, and he answered it at once. He accepted with pleasure, but told Nevill not to stop for him on the way to Richmond.
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