seven sharp for dinner. Seldom goes out at
other times, except when she sings. Has only one male visitor, but a
good deal of him. He is dark, handsome, and dashing; never calls less
than once a day, and often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey Norton of the
Inner Temple. See the advantages of a cabman as a confidant. They had
driven him home a dozen times from Serpentine Mews, and knew all about
him. When I had listened to all that they had to tell, I began to walk
up and down near Briony Lodge once more, and to think over my plan of
campaign.

"This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the matter. He
was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the relation between them,
and what the object of his repeated visits? Was she his client, his
friend, or his mistress? If the former, she had probably transferred the
photograph to his keeping. If the latter, it was less likely. On the
issue of this question depended whether I should continue my work at
Briony Lodge, or turn my attention to the gentleman's chambers in the
Temple. It was a delicate point, and it widened the field of my inquiry.
I fear that I bore you with these details, but I have to let you see my
little difficulties, if you are to understand the situation."

"I am following you closely," I answered.

"I was still balancing the matter in my mind, when a hansom cab drove up
to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprung out. He was a remarkably
handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached--evidently the man of whom
I had heard. He appeared to be in a great hurry, shouted to the cabman
to wait, and brushed past the maid who opened the door, with the air of
a man who was thoroughly at home.

"He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch glimpses of
him in the windows of the sitting room, pacing up and down, talking
excitedly and waving his arms. Of her I could see nothing. Presently he
emerged, looking even more flurried than before. As he stepped up to the
cab, he pulled a gold watch from his pocket and looked at it earnestly.
'Drive like the devil!' he shouted, 'first to Gross & Hankey's in Regent
Street, and then to the Church of St. Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half
a guinea if you do it in twenty minutes!'

"Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should not do well
to follow them, when up the lane came a neat little landau, the coachman
with his coat only half buttoned, and his tie under his ear, while all
the tags of his harness