e stage
pretence of dinner. We hardly spoke on the way, but I held her hand, and
pressed it now and then.

Jim was waiting for us just inside the revolving doors of the hotel.

"I'd have liked to come for you in a car," he said aside to me, "but I
thought it would be hard on Miss Arnold--and maybe on you--to have more
of my society than need be, you know!"

"Why on me?" I hastily inquired.

His black eyes blazed into mine.

"Well, I've sort of blackmailed you, haven't I?"

"Have you?"

"Into this engagement of ours."

"Oh, I haven't got time to think of that just now!" I snapped. "Let's go
to Miss Reardon's rooms."

We went. Jim said no more, except to mention that Captain Lorillard had
already gone up.

Joyce may have imagined Jim to be the "great friend interested in
Robert's welfare," but as for me, I wondered how he knew Robert by
sight. Then I scolded myself: "Silly one! Hasn't he been
watching--playing detective for you?"

It was poignant, remembering the last time when Robert, Joyce, and I had
met in Miss Reardon's sitting room--the last day of their happiness. But
we greeted each other quietly, like old friends, though Joyce's heart
must have contracted at sight of the man's changed face. All the renewed
youth and joyous manhood her love had given him had burned out of his
eyes. He looked as he'd looked when I saw him that day at River Orchard
Cottage.

Miss Reardon was slightly nervous in manner, and flushed like a girl
when I introduced Sir James Courtenaye to her. But soon she recovered
her prim little poise, and began making arrangements for the seance.

"Mr. Lorillard has already tested my _bona fides_ to his own
satisfaction," she said. "He has examined my small suite, and knows that
no person, no theatrical 'properties' are concealed about the place. If
any of you would like to look around, however, before we start, I'm more
than willing. Also if you'd care to bind my hands and feet, or sit in a
circle and hold me fast, I've no objection."

As she made this offer, she glanced from one to the other of us. Pale,
silent Joyce shook her head. Jim "left it to Princess di Miramare," and
I decided that if Captain Lorillard was satisfied, we were.

"Very well," purred Miss Reardon. "In that case there's nothing more to
wait for. Captain Lorillard, will you switch off the lights as usual?"

"Oh!" I broke in, surprised, "I thought you'd told us that the
'influence' was just as strong in light a