t to come of a
mornin'. Here we are, sir; door on the right."

The landing was in darkness, but as Gunn spoke he directed the ray of a
pocket lamp upon a bronze plate bearing the name "Kazmah." He rested one
hand upon his hip.

"All snug," he repeated; "as snug as a eel in mud. The decree nisi is
yours, sir. As an alderman of the City of London and a Justice of the
Peace you are entitled to call a police officer--"

"Hold your tongue!" rapped Irvin. "You've been drinking: and I place no
reliance whatever in your evidence. I do not believe that my wife or any
one else but ourselves is upon these premises."

The watery eyes of the insulted man protruded unnaturally. "Drinkin'!"
he whispered, "drink--"

But indignation now deprived Gunn of speech and:

"Excuse me, sir," interrupted the nasal voice of Brisley, "but I can
absolutely answer for Gunn. Reputation of the Agency at stake. Worked
with us for three years. Parties undoubtedly on the premises as
reported."

"Drink--" whispered Gunn.

"I shall be glad," said Monte Irvin, and his voice shook emotionally,
"if you will lend me your pocket lamp. I am naturally upset. Will you
kindly both go downstairs. I will call if I want you."

The two men obeyed, Gunn muttering hoarsely to Brisley; and Monte Irvin
was left standing on the landing, the lamp in his hand. He waited until
he knew from the sound of their footsteps that the pair had regained the
street, then, resting his arm against the closed door, and pressing
his forehead to the damp sleeve of his coat, he stood awhile, the lamp,
which he held limply, shining down upon the floor.

His lips moved, and almost inaudibly he murmured his wife's name.

CHAPTER V. THE DOOR IS OPENED

Quentin Gray and Seton strolled out of Prince's and both paused whilst
Seton lighted a long black cheroot.

"It seems a pity to waste that box," said Gray. "Suppose we look in at
the Gaiety for an hour?"

His humor was vastly improved, and he watched the passing throngs with
an expression more suited to his boyish good looks than that of anger
and mortification which had rested upon him an hour earlier.

Seton Pasha tossed a match into the road.

"My official business is finished for the day," he replied. "I place
myself unreservedly in your hands."

"Well, then," began Gray--and paused.

A long, low car, the chauffeur temporarily detained by the stoppage of a
motorbus ahead, had slowed up within three yards of the spot w