ith Harold to-night," she said, and later on, when
the men came from the dining-room, she looked out for her husband. But at
first she did not see him. She was in the drawing-room and the wide
double doors which led to the big library stood open. It was through
those doors that the men had come. Some of the party were gathered there.
She could hear the click of the billiard balls and the voices of women
mingling with those of the men. She went through the doors and saw her
husband standing by Harold Hazlewood's desk, and engrossed apparently in
some little paper-covered book which he held in his hand. She crossed to
him at once.

"Robert," she said, "don't be in a hurry to go to-night. I must have a
word with Harold."

"All right," said Pettifer, but he said it in so absent a voice that his
wife doubted whether he had understood her words. She was about to repeat
them when Harold Hazlewood himself approached.

"You are looking at my new pamphlet, Pettifer, _The Prison Walls must
Cast no Shadow_. I am hoping that it will have a great influence."

"No," replied Pettifer. "I wasn't. I was looking at this," and he held
up the little book.

"Oh, that?" said Hazlewood, turning away with disappointment.

"Yes, that," said Pettifer with a strange and thoughtful look at his
brother-in-law. "And I am not sure," he added slowly, "that in a short
time you will not find it the more important publication of the two."

He laid the book down and in his turn he moved away towards the
billiard-table. Margaret Pettifer remained. She had been struck by the
curious deliberate words her husband had used. Was this the hint for
which she was looking out? She took up the little book. It was a copy of
_Notes and Queries_. She opened it.

It was a small periodical magazine made up of printed questions which
contributors sent in search of information and answers to those questions
from the pens of other contributors. Mrs. Pettifer glanced through the
leaves, hoping to light upon the page which her husband had been
studying. But he had closed the book when he laid it down and she found
nothing to justify his remark. Yet he had not spoken without intention.
Of that she was convinced, and her conviction was strengthened the next
moment, for as she turned again towards the drawing-room Robert Pettifer
looked once sharply towards her and as sharply away. Mrs. Pettifer
understood that glance. He was wondering whether she had noticed what in
tha