Page 165 - tender-is-the-night

dy’s Girl.’
Automatically Dick made the old motion of turning up
his sleeves though he wore a sleeveless undershirt, and bent
over the body. Getting a purchase on the shoulders of the
coat he kicked open the door with his heel, and dragged the
body quickly into a plausible position in the corridor. He
came back into Rosemary’s room and smoothed back the
grain of the plush floor rug. Then he went to the phone in
his suite and called the manager-owner of the hotel.
‘McBeth?—it’s Doctor Diver speaking—something very
important. Are we on a more or less private line?’
It was good that he had made the extra effort which had
firmly entrenched him with Mr. McBeth. Here was one use
for all the pleasingness that Dick had expended over a large
area he would never retrace... .
‘Going out of the suite we came on a dead Negro ... in the
hall ... no, no, he’s a civilian. Wait a minute now—I knew
you didn’t want any guests to blunder on the body so I’m
phoning you. Of course I must ask you to keep my name
out of it. I don’t want any French red tape just because I dis-
covered the man.’
What exquisite consideration for the hotel! Only be-
cause Mr. McBeth, with his own eyes, had seen these traits
in Doctor Diver two nights before, could he credit the story
without question.
In a minute Mr. McBeth arrived and in another min-
ute he was joined by a gendarme. In the interval he found
time to whisper to Dick, ‘You can be sure the name of any
guest will be protected. I’m only too grateful to you for your

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