He rose to his feet with a shrug of the shoulders. There was nothing
to be done but to accept defeat. And then, at the moment of defeat,
something happened which more than reconciled him to his wasted visit.
The door was opened abruptly, and Saton entered.

He realized the situation, or its possibilities, in an instant. His
bow to Violet was the bow of a stranger.

"You are engaged," he said. "I will come again. I am sorry that your
boy did not tell me."

"This gentleman came under a misapprehension," Violet answered. "I am
sorry, but the same thing applies to you. I do not receive gentlemen
here."

Saton bowed.

"I am sorry," he said.

The page-boy for whom Violet had rung, opened the door. The first
comer passed out, with obvious reluctance. The moment that the door
was closed, Violet turned towards Saton with a little exclamation.

"Well," she said, "of all the idiots I ever knew. Haven't I told you
time after time that this place is infested with detectives? We get
them here every day or so, trying to trap us, women as well as men.
And yet you walk in as though the place belonged to you. The one thing
they are so anxious to find out is who is running this show."

"I was a fool to come, Violet," Saton admitted, "and I am going at
once. You think, then, that he was a detective?"

"I am sure of it," she answered. "I was sure of it, from the moment he
came in."

"I will go," Saton said.

"Did you come to see me?" she asked, with a momentary softening in her
tone.

Saton nodded.

"It must be another time," he said. "I will not stop now, or that man
below will suspect."

"When will our next evening be, Bertrand?" she begged, following him
to the door.

"I'll send you a telegram," he answered--"perhaps, to-morrow."

Saton descended the stairs quickly. On the threshold of the door he
paused, with the apparent object of lighting a cigarette. His eyes
travelled up and down the street. Looking into a shop-window a few
yards away, was the man whom he had found with Violet.

He strolled slowly along the pavement and accosted him.

"I beg your pardon," he said. "Please don't think me impertinent, but
I am really curious to know whether that young woman was honest or
not. She refused to read my hand or look into the crystal for me,
simply because I was a man. Did she treat you in just the same way?"

The detective smiled.

"Yes!" he said. "She was very much on her guard indeed. Declined to
have anyt