to sing, and that kind of calmed things down till the lights went up
again. That's about all I remember.'

His recollections did not at all agree with what he had entered in his
diary; but though Logotheti tried a second time two days later, Feist
repeated the same story with absolute verbal accuracy. The Greek asked
him if he had known 'that poor Miss Bamberger who died of shock.'
Feist blew out a cloud of drugged tobacco smoke before he answered,
with one of his disagreeable smiles, that he had known her pretty
well, for he had been her father's private secretary. He explained
that he had given up the place because he had come into some money.
Mr. Bamberger was 'a very pleasant gentleman,' Feist declared, and
poor Miss Bamberger had been a 'superb dresser and a first-class
conversationalist, and was a severe loss to her friends and admirers.'
Though Logotheti, who was only a Greek, did not understand every word
of this panegyric, he perceived that it was intended for the highest
praise. He said he should like to know Mr. Bamberger, and was sorry
that he had not known Miss Bamberger, who had been engaged to marry
Mr. Van Torp, as every one had heard.

He thought he saw a difference in Feist's expression, but was not sure
of it. The pale, unhealthy, and yet absurdly youthful face was not
naturally mobile, and the almost colourless eyes always had rather a
fixed and staring look. Logotheti was aware of a new meaning in them
rather than of a distinct change. He accordingly went on to say that
he had heard poor Miss Bamberger spoken of as heartless, and he
brought out the word so unexpectedly that Feist looked sharply at him.

'Well,' he said, 'some people certainly thought so. I daresay she was.
It don't matter much, now she's dead, anyway.'

'She paid for it, poor girl,' answered Logotheti very deliberately.
'They say she was murdered.'

The change in Feist's face was now unmistakable. There was a drawing
down of the corners of the mouth, and a lowering of the lids that
meant something, and the unhealthy complexion took a greyish shade.
Logotheti was too wise to watch his intended victim, and leaned back
in a careless attitude, gazing out of the window at the bright creeper
on the opposite wall.

'I've heard it suggested,' said Mr. Feist rather thickly, out of a
perfect storm of drugged smoke.

It came out of his ugly nostrils, it blew out of his mouth, it seemed
to issue even from his ears and eyes.

'I suppo