coat.

"Wonderful!" she declared. "I haven't had such a wonderful five minutes
since I can remember! You are a dear to have brought me, Sir Timothy."

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Mean?" she laughed, as the car swung around and they glided away.
"You didn't suppose I was going to sit here and watch you depart upon
a mysterious errand? I borrowed your chauffeur's coat and his cap,
and slunk down after you. I can assure you I looked the most wonderful
female apache you ever saw! And I saw the fight. It was better than any
of the prize fights I have ever been to. The real thing is better than
the sham, isn't it?"

Sir Timothy leaned back in his place and remained silent. Soon they
passed out of the land of tired people, of stalls decked out with
unsavoury provender, of foetid smells and unwholesome-looking houses.
They passed through a street of silent warehouses on to the Embankment.
A stronger breeze came down between the curving arc of lights.

"You are not sorry that you brought me?" Lady Cynthia asked, suddenly
holding out her hand.

Sir Timothy took it in his. For some reason or other, he made no answer
at all.

CHAPTER XXVII

The car stopped in front of the great house in Grosvenor Square. Lady
Cynthia turned to her companion.

"You must come in, please," she said. "I insist, if it is only for five
minutes."

Sir Timothy followed her across the hall to a curved recess, where the
footman who had admitted them touched a bell, and a small automatic lift
came down.

"I am taking you to my own quarters," she explained. "They are rather
cut off but I like them--especially on hot nights."

They glided up to the extreme top of the house. She opened the gates and
led the way into what was practically an attic sitting-room, decorated
in black and white. Wide-flung doors opened onto the leads, where
comfortable chairs, a small table and an electric standard were
arranged. They were far above the tops of the other houses, and looked
into the green of the Park.

"This is where I bring very few people," she said. "This is where, even
after my twenty-eight years of fraudulent life, I am sometimes myself.
Wait."

There were feminine drinks and sandwiches arranged on the table. She
opened the cupboard of a small sideboard just inside the sitting-room,
however, and produced whisky and a syphon of soda. There was a pail of
ice in a cool corner. From somewhere in the distance came the music
of violins