war, and to the war and
the consequent absence of her husband Rita undoubtedly owed her relapse
into opium-smoking. That she would have continued secretly to employ
cocaine, veronal, and possibly morphine was probable enough; but the
constant society of Monte Irvin must have made it extremely difficult
for her to indulge the craving for chandu. She began to regret the
gaiety of her old life. Loneliness and monotony plunged her into a state
of suicidal depression, and she grasped eagerly at every promise of
excitement.

It was at about this time that she met Margaret Halley, and between
the two, so contrary in disposition, a close friendship arose. The girl
doctor ere long discovered Rita's secret, of course, and the discovery
was hastened by an event which occurred shortly after they had become
acquainted.

The suave alien gentleman disappeared.

That was the entire story in five words--or all of the story that Rita
ever learned. His apartments were labelled "To Let," and the night clubs
knew him no more. Rita for a time was deprived of drugs, and the
nervous collapse which resulted revealed to Margaret Halley's trained
perceptions the truth respecting her friend.

Kazmah's terms proved to be more outrageous than ever, but Rita found
herself again compelled to resort to the Egyptian. She went personally
to the rooms in old Bond Street and arranged with Rashid to see Kazmah
on the following day, Friday, for Kazmah only received visitors by
appointment. As it chanced, Sir Lucien Pyne returned to England on
Thursday night and called upon Rita at Prince's Gate. She welcomed him
as a friend in need, unfolding the pitiful story, to the truth of which
her nervous condition bore eloquent testimony.

Sir Lucien began to pace up and down the charming little room in which
Rita had received him. She watched him, haggard-eyed. Presently:

"Leave Kazmah to me," he said. "If you visit him he will merely shield
himself behind the mystical business, or assure you that he is making no
profit on his sales. Kilfane had similar trouble with him."

"Then you will see him?" asked Rita.

"I will make a point of interviewing him in the morning. Meanwhile, if
you will send Nina around to Albemarle Street in about an hour I will
see what can be done."

"Oh, Lucy," whispered Rita, "what a pal you are."

Sir Lucien smiled in his cold fashion.

"I try to be," he said enigmatically; "but I don't always succeed."
He turned to her. "Have