CHAPTER SEVENTEENVal and Mr Campion were in the studio at Papendeik’s; not the little office, which was only a semiprivate apartment, but the great studio at the top of the house, which was a holy of holies and looked to Mr Campion’s inexperienced eyes like the inside of a woman’s handbag magnified. It seemed to contain everything except a bath, although there certainly was a businesslike sink in one corner of the room, besides a remarkable assortment of tables, cupboards, mirrors and mysterious boxes.
They had chosen this place for conversation partly because it was secret and partly because there was a gas fire and, although it was midsummer, the night was chilly.
Miss McPhail, Val’s secretary, who spent her life guarding this sanctuary, had gone home, but Rex was still about in spite
