r an alias--other of
same side of the way, at No. 94, top storey. We
using the fire-escape, pass over the intervening r
reach the parapet outside the "partners' room" at the
ding. I shall once again make use of the little room
tners' office as a bedroom or rather "tiring" room, w
if necessary effect changes of costume. I have tak
ces in the name of Mr. Michaelis for a special reas
ome modifications of David's costume I have appeared in p
ssume possession of them. I generally enter No. 94 dressed a
Warren. All this may sound very silly to you, like pla

"Warren!" That name stood out clear. Did it mean the suffragette,
Vivien Warren, who had sometimes been here, and in whose adventures
her husband seemed so unbecomingly interested? One of the great
ladies who were Anti-Suffragists and had already decoyed Mrs.
Rossiter within their drawing-rooms had referred with great
disapproval to Miss Warren as the daughter of a most notorious woman
whom their husbands wouldn't hear mentioned because of her shocking
past. And David, David of course must be that tiresome David
Williams, supposed to be a cousin of Vivien Warren, but really
seeming in these allusions to be a disguise in which this bold
female deceived people. And "Mr. Michaelis?" Could that be her own
Michael? The shameless baggage! She choked at the thought. Was it a
conspiracy into which they were luring her husband, already rather
compromised as a man of science by his enthusiasm for the Suffrage
cause? People used to speak of Michael almost with awe, he was so
clever, he made such wonderful discoveries. Now, since he had become
a politician he had many enemies, and several ladies of high title
referred to him contemptuously even in her hearing and cut _her_
without compunction, though she had Ten thousand a year. She felt
all the same a profound conviction that Michael was the most
honourable of men. Yet why all this mystery? The W.S.P.U.? Those
letters stood for some more than usually malignant Suffrage Society.
She had seen the letters often in "Votes for Women."...

Her musings here were stayed by the sound of her husband's steps in
the passage. Hastily she thrust the half sheet of charred paper into
her corsage and brushed off the fragments of the burnt edges from
her laces; then turned and affected to be tidying the writing table
as Michael came in.

_Rossiter_: "Lind