artly because I had a vague idea
that it might come in handy to have some sort of headquarters in
London where I was known and recognized as Mr. James Nicholson.

Having settled up this piece of business I sat down and wrote to
McMurtrie. It was a task which required a certain amount of care and
delicacy, but after two trial essays I succeeded in turning out the
following letter, which seemed to me about to meet the situation.

"DEAR DR. McMURTRIE:

"As you have probably heard, I received your letter yesterday, and I
am making arrangements to go down to Tilbury tomorrow by the 11.45.

"Of course in a way I am sorry to leave London--it's extraordinary
what a capacity for pleasure a prolonged residence in the country
gives one--but at the same time I quite agree with you that business
must come first.

"I shall start work directly I get down, and if all the things I asked
for in my list have been provided, I don't think it will be long
before I have some satisfactory news for you. Unless I see you or hear
from you before then I will write to the Hotel Russell directly there
is anything definite to communicate.

"Meanwhile please give my kind regards to your amiable friend and
colleague, and also remember me to his charming daughter.

"Believe me,

"Yours sincerely,

"JAMES NICHOLSON."

With its combined touch of seriousness and flippancy, this appeared to
me exactly the sort of letter that McMurtrie would expect me to write.
I couldn't resist putting in the bit about his "amiable" friend, for
the recollection of Savaroff's manner towards me still rankled gently
in my memory. Besides I had a notion it would rather amuse McMurtrie,
whose more artistic mind must have been frequently distressed by his
colleague's blustering surliness.

I could think of nothing else which required my immediate attention,
so going into my bedroom I proceeded to pack up my belongings. I put
in everything I possessed with the exception of Savaroff's discarded
garments, for although I was keeping on the rooms I had no very robust
faith in my prospects of ever returning to them. Then, ringing the
bell, I despatched Gertrude to fetch me a taxi, while I settled up my
bill with Mrs. Oldbury.

"An' seem' you've taken on the rooms, sir," observed that lady, "I
'opes it's to be a case of 'say orrivar an' not good-bye.'"

"I hope it is, Mrs. Oldbury," I replied. "I shall come back if I
possibly can, but one never knows what may happen in