There was in this room a harmony, a quiet order and a soothing quality
which made it a haven of rest to a literary man with jagged nerves. Two
big bronze bowls were filled with early violets, another blazed like a
pale sun with primroses, and the early woodland flowers filled the room
with a faint fragrance.

A man rose to his feet, as John Lexman entered and crossed the room with
an easy carriage. He was a man possessed of singular beauty of face and
of figure. Half a head taller than the author, he carried himself with
such a grace as to conceal his height.

"I missed you in town," he said, "so I thought I'd run down on the off
chance of seeing you."

He spoke in the well-modulated tone of one who had had a long
acquaintance with the public schools and universities of England. There
was no trace of any foreign accent, yet Remington Kara was a Greek and
had been born and partly educated in the more turbulent area of Albania.

The two men shook hands warmly.

"You'll stay to dinner?"

Kara glanced round with a smile at Grace Lexman. She sat uncomfortably
upright, her hands loosely folded on her lap, her face devoid of
encouragement.

"If Mrs. Lexman doesn't object," said the Greek.

"I should be pleased, if you would," she said, almost mechanically; "it
is a horrid night and you won't get anything worth eating this side of
London and I doubt very much," she smiled a little, "if the meal I can
give you will be worthy of that description."

"What you can give me will be more than sufficient," he said, with a
little bow, and turned to her husband.

In a few minutes they were deep in a discussion of books and places, and
Grace seized the opportunity to make her escape. From books in general
to Lexman's books in particular the conversation flowed.

"I've read every one of them, you know," said Kara.

John made a little face. "Poor devil," he said sardonically.

"On the contrary," said Kara, "I am not to be pitied. There is a great
criminal lost in you, Lexman."

"Thank you," said John.

"I am not being uncomplimentary, am I?" smiled the Greek. "I am merely
referring to the ingenuity of your plots. Sometimes your books baffle
and annoy me. If I cannot see the solution of your mysteries before the
book is half through, it angers me a little. Of course in the majority
of cases I know the solution before I have reached the fifth chapter."

John looked at him in surprise and was somewhat piqued.

"I flatte