nevertheless, I still believed in him, even though he was now a
fugitive. Edwards had laughed at my faith in the man who was my friend,
but I felt within me a strong conviction that he was not so black as
pigheaded officialdom had painted him.

The Council of Seven at Scotland Yard might be a clever combination of
expert brains, but they were not infallible, as had been proved so many
times in the recent annals of London crime.

Phrida had not referred to the tragedy, and I had not therefore mentioned
it.

My sole object at the moment was to obtain possession of the empty glass
and carry it with me from the house.

But how could I effect this without arousing her suspicion?

She had risen and stood with her back to the blazing fire, her pretty
lips parted in a sweet smile. We were discussing a play at which she had
been on the previous evening, a comedy that had taken the town by storm.

Her golden bangles jingled as she moved--that same light metallic sound I
had heard in the darkness of the staircase at Harrington Gardens. My
eager fingers itched to obtain possession of that glass which stood so
tantalisingly within a couple of feet of my hand. By its means I could
establish the truth.

"Well, Teddy," my beloved said at last, as she glanced at the chiming
clock upon the mantelshelf. "It's past eleven, so I suppose I must go to
bed. Mallock is always in a bad temper if I keep her up after eleven."

"I suppose that is only natural," I laughed. "She often waits hours and
hours for you. That I know."

"Yes," she sighed. "But Mallock is really a model maid. So much better
than Rayne."

Personally, I did not like the woman Mallock. She was a thin-nosed,
angular person, who wore pince-nez, and was of a decidedly inquisitive
disposition. But I, of course, had never shown any antagonism towards
her; indeed, I considered it diplomatic to treat her with tact and
consideration. She had been maid to the oldest daughter of a well-known
and popular countess before entering Phrida's service, and I could well
imagine that her principal topic of conversation in the servants' hall
was the superiority of her late mistress, whose service she had left on
her marriage to a wealthy peer.

"I'm glad she is an improvement upon Rayne," I said, for want of
something else to say, and, rising, I took her little hand and pressed it
to my lips in farewell.

When she had kissed me I said:

"I'll just finish my cigarette, and I can le