He hated the recollection now. Even Annesley could not think it more
contemptible than he did.

Still worse was the remembrance of Mrs. Ellsworth's latchkey, the keeping
of which had been accidental at first. Afterward he had gaily regarded
its possession as a gift from Providence. The way to Ruthven Smith's
house was made clear by it; and better still, through it the dragon could
be punished for years of cruelty to the captive princess. "Char" had been
the man to whom fell the honour of bestowing the punishment, and leaving
a missive from the princess's rescuer.

Knight writhed in spirit as he wondered whether the princess guessed the
fate of the key.

He wondered also if she asked herself what part he had had in the
disappearance of the Valley House heirlooms. She would loathe him more
intensely, if possible, could she know how her presence with him on that
public "show day" had helped to cloak with respectability his secret
mission. How mean he had been in distracting her attention from the two
Fragonards and from the cabinets containing the miniatures and the carved
Chinese gods of jade while he "marked" the prizes for the eyes of his two
assistants. How unsuspicious and happy the girl had been, trusting him
utterly, while behind her back he manipulated the diamond--the useful
diamond--he always carried for such purposes!

Even then he had the grace to be ashamed of himself for disloyalty,
though not for dishonesty, as deftly the diamond cut the glass faces of
the cabinets directly opposite the miniatures and the Buddha meant to
enrich Paul Van Vreck's secret collection. He had been glad to hurry his
wife away, and let the eager pair of "tourists" crowding on his heels
finish the work he had begun.

It seemed to Knight, as his thoughts travelled heavily along the past,
that no other woman but Annesley Grayle, this fragile white rose that
had freely given its sweetness, could have turned him from the vow of
vengeance for his parents' fate which as a boy he had sworn against the
world. Day by day, week by week, month by month, the fragrance of the
white rose had so changed him that looking back at himself, he saw a
stranger.

Had it not been for certain engagements made with Paul Van Vreck and
others--engagements which had to be kept because there is honour among
thieves--that "den" of his in Portman Square would long ago have been
shut to his "at home" day visitors. No more "business" would have been
done