hes policemen, and had determined, a second before, to assert
himself, give the man half-a-sovereign, and put an end to this
ridiculous extravaganza. Now he changed his mind. Detective-Inspector
Pepys was a revelation.

Vignoles (to his own surprise) offered his hand.

"It is very good of you," he said, rather awkwardly. "You are sure you
have no other dinner engagement, Inspector?"

"None," replied the latter. "I am, strictly speaking, engaged upon
official duty; but bodily nutriment is allowed--even by Scotland Yard!"

"You don't mind my presenting you to--the other guests--in
your--ah--unofficial capacity--as plain Mr. Pepys? They might--think
there was something wrong!"

He felt vaguely confused, as though he were insulting the visitor by his
request, and with the detective's disconcerting eyes fixed upon his face
was more than half ashamed of himself.

"Not in the least, Lord Vignoles. I should have suggested it had you not
done so."

The host was resentfully conscious of a subtle sense of inward gratitude
for this concession. Of the easy assumption of equality by the detective
he experienced no resentment whatever. The circumstances possibly
warranted it, and, in any event, it was assumed so quietly and naturally
that he accepted it as a matter of course.

Since Lord Vignoles' marriage with an American heiress the atmosphere of
his establishments had grown very transatlantic; so much so, indeed,
that someone had dubbed the house in Cadogan Gardens "The Millionaires'
Meeting House," and another wit (unknown) had referred to his place in
Norfolk as "The Week-end Synagogue." Furthermore, Lady Vignoles had a
weakness for "odd people," for which reason the presence of a guest
hitherto socially unknown occasioned no comment.

Mr. Pepys having brought in Zoe Oppner, everyone assumed the late
arrival to be one of Lady Vignoles' odd people, and everyone was
pleasantly surprised to find him such a charming companion.

Zoe Oppner, for her part, became so utterly absorbed in his conversation
that her cousin grew seriously alarmed. Zoe was notoriously eccentric,
and, her cousin did not doubt, even capable of forming an attachment for
a policeman.

In fact, Lady Vignoles, who was wearing the historic Lyrpa Diamond--her
father's wedding-present--was so concerned that she had entirely lost
track of the general conversation, which, from the great gem, had
drifted automatically into criminology.

Zimmermann was citin