nued. "We mustn't talk about it.
Only it gave me foolish thoughts. From being utterly incredulous or
indifferent, I went to the other extreme. I became, I suppose,
absolutely foolish. I went to one of those stupid women in Bond
Street."

"You went to have your fortune told?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Oh, I suppose so!" she said. "I asked her a lot of things, and she
looked into a crystal globe and told me what she saw. It was quite
interesting, but unfortunately I went a little further than I meant
to. I asked her some ridiculous questions about--a friend of mine."

He smiled sympathetically.

"Well," he said, "this all seems rather like a waste of time, but I
scarcely see how it would be likely to land you in a difficulty."

"But it has," she answered. "That is what I want to explain to you.
The woman insisted upon having a letter in the handwriting of the
person I asked questions about, and I foolishly gave her one that was
in my pocket. When I asked for it back again, the day afterwards, she
said she had mislaid it."

"But was the letter of any importance?" he asked.

"There wasn't much in it, of course," she answered, "but it was a
private letter."

"It is infamous!" he declared. "I should give information to the
police at once."

She held out her hands--tiny little white hands, ringless and soft.

"My dear man," she exclaimed, "how can I? Give information to the
police, indeed! What, go and admit before a magistrate that I had
been to a fortune-teller, especially," she added, looking down, "on
such an errand?"

He drew a little nearer to her.

"I beg your pardon," he answered. "I was thoughtless. That, of course,
is not possible. Tell me the name and the address of the person to
whom you went."

"The woman's name was Helga," she answered, "and it was in the upper
end of Bond Street. Daisy Knowles told me about the place. Heaps of
people I know have been."

"And the letter?" he asked. "Tell me, if you can, what is its precise
significance?"

"It was a letter from Charlie Peyton," she answered--"Major Peyton, in
the Guards, you know. There wasn't anything in it that mattered
really, but I shall not have a moment's peace until it is returned to
me."

"Have you told me everything?" he asked.

"No!" she admitted.

"Perhaps it would be as well," he murmured.

She produced a letter from the bosom of her gown.

"I received this last night," she said.

He glanced it rapidly through. The form o