s in future.

Fortunately, Helen Cumberly's self-chosen path in life had taught her
how to handle the nascent and undesirable lover. She chatted upon
the subject of art, and fenced adroitly whenever the Greek sought
to introduce the slightest personal element into the conversation.
Nevertheless, she was relieved when at last she found herself in the
familiar Square with her foot upon the steps of Palace Mansions.

"Good night, Mr. Gianapolis!" she said, and frankly offered her hand.

The Greek raised it to his lips with exaggerated courtesy, and retained
it, looking into her eyes in his crooked fashion.

"We both move in the world of art and letters; may I hope that this
meeting will not be our last?"

"I am always wandering about between Fleet Street and Soho," laughed
Helen. "It is quite certain we shall run into each other again before
long. Good night, and thank you so much!"

She darted into the hallway, and ran lightly up the stairs. Opening the
flat door with her key, she entered and closed it behind her, sighing
with relief to be free of the over-attentive Greek. Some impulse
prompted her to enter her own room, and, without turning up the light,
to peer down into the Square.

Gianapolis was descending the steps. On the pavement he stood and looked
up at the windows, lingeringly; then he turned and walked away.

Helen Cumberly stifled an exclamation.

As the Greek gained the corner of the Square and was lost from view, a
lithe figure--kin of the shadows which had masked it--became detached
from the other shadows beneath the trees of the central garden and
stood, a vague silhouette seemingly looking up at her window as
Gianapolis had looked.

Helen leaned her hands upon the ledge and peered intently down. The
figure was a vague blur in the darkness, but it was moving away along by
the rails... following Gianapolis. No clear glimpse she had of it, for
bat-like, it avoided the light, this sinister shape--and was gone.

XXXI

MUSK AND ROSES

It is time to rejoin M. Gaston Max in the catacombs of Ho-Pin. Having
prepared himself for drugged repose in the small but luxurious apartment
to which he had been conducted by the Chinaman, he awaited with interest
the next development. This took the form of the arrival of an Egyptian
attendant, white-robed, red-slippered, and wearing the inevitable
tarboosh. Upon the brass tray which he carried were arranged the
necessities of the opium smoker. Placing t