vering, whose spirits had descended into utter gloom while
enwrapped in that sinister fog, accepted it as a happier portent; and
when he was so fortunate as to find an empty drawing-room on the
Express, he went to bed and slept until the porter awoke him at
Tarrytown.

It was his first impulse to rush direct to Murray Hill, but he knew the
folly of doing anything of the sort. He needed a bath and a shave and
a fortifying dinner.

He concluded that it would be unwise to telephone, and at nine o'clock
he approached her house, reasonably calm and quite determined to have
his own way. But the house was dark from cellar to roof. Every window
was closed although it was a warm night. He sprang up the steps and
rang the bell. He rang again, and then kept his finger on the button
for nearly five minutes.

He descended into the area, but the iron bars were new, and immovable.
Moreover, a policeman was sauntering opposite. He approached the man
in a moment and asked him if he knew whether the house had been open
earlier in the evening. Yes, the officer told him, he had seen one of
the servants go in about half an hour ago.

Clavering walked away slowly. If Mary had gone to Washington, why had
the servants not answered his ring? It was too early for them to be in
bed. Then his spirits, which had descended to zero, rose jubilantly.
Hohenhauer! It was against him she was barricading herself. No doubt
she would feel herself in a state of siege as long as the man remained
in the country.

He went to the nearest hotel and telephoned. He was prepared to be
told, after an interminable wait, that there was "no answer"; but in a
moment he heard the voice of the butler. Obeying a sudden impulse he
disguised his own.

"I should like to speak to Madame Zattiany."

"Madame has retired."

He hung up. He had ascertained that she was at home and his spiritual
barometer ascended another notch. He'd see her tomorrow if he spent
the day on her doorstep. He bought an evening paper, picked out a new
play, and spent a very agreeable evening at the theatre.

LIX

His nervous excitement returned next morning, but he forced himself to
eat a good breakfast and read his newspapers. He was determined to
show her that he was completely master of himself. She should be able
to draw no unfavorable comparisons with Hohenhauer, whose composure had
probably not been ruffled in forty years. His comparative youth might
be again