pose I answered coherently when Lady Tressidy addressed me, and
talked without openly making an idiot of myself to Sir Walter. But I
remember nothing of the conversation between the second and third acts,
save the few words spoken by Miss Cunningham, and an invitation from
Lady Tressidy to call on one of her "At Home" days.

After I had gratefully accepted, I turned to the girl.

"Lady Tressidy has said I may come and see her," I ventured. "Will
you--may I hope to find you with her when I do?"

She looked up with a sudden, illumining smile that answered me. "Come
soon," she returned. They were her last words for me that night, and
they rang in my head as I left her, dizzy with the memory of her
loveliness.

CHAPTER III

A Dead Man's Hand

I had taken rooms temporarily at the Savoy Hotel, not knowing how long
it might be ere I should be moved in spirit to desert London; and that
night, instead of looking in at the club as I had meant, I went from the
theatre straight to the hotel.

There was a fire burning in my room, and I drew up a chair before it to
smoke an unlimited number of cigarettes, and to think of Karine
Cunningham.

I had parted from Farnham outside the theatre, and had made an
appointment to meet him next day at dinner, which he was to eat with me
at my hotel.

I felt no inclination for bed, nor was I in the least sleepy, and yet,
before an hour had passed, I must have fallen into a doze.

Suddenly I was awakened by the impression of having heard a sound. I
looked round me, half dazed still from my dreams. The fire had died
down, and I had left myself with no other light. Only a ruddy glow
lingered on the hearth, and a small clock on the mantelpiece just above
lightly chimed out the hour of two.

I must have dreamed the sound, I told myself, for all was silent in the
sleeping hotel, and even the rattle of cabs outside was dulled. Still,
the impression lingered, and I could hardly persuade myself that I had
not heard Harvey Farnham's voice calling my name, and finishing with a
gurgling, despairing cry for help, the horror of which had chilled the
blood in my veins, even in my sleep.

Though the fire was dead, the room was still warm, and I hardly knew why
I should be so cold. Nevertheless, I felt chilled to the bone, and I was
glad enough to get into bed as quickly as I could. Several times I was
on the point of falling asleep again, but, at just the critical point
between reflectivene