ich he felt
the greatest attachment. He remembered his long travels in Germany, he
remembered on his return his growing disapproval of English slackness,
her physical and moral decadence. Her faults had inspired him not with
the sorrow of one of her real sons, but with the contempt of one only
half bound to her by natural ties. The ground had been laid ready for
the poison. He had started honestly enough. His philosophy had satisfied
himself. He had felt no moral degradation in wearing the uniform of one
country for the benefit of another. All this self-disgust he dated from
the coming of Geraldine Conyers. Now he was weary of it all, face to
face, too, with a disagreeable and insistent problem.

He started suddenly in his chair. An interruption ordinary enough,
but never without a certain startling effect, had broken in upon his
thoughts. The telephone on his table was ringing insistently. He rose
to his feet and glanced at the clock as he crossed the room. It was five
minutes past twelve. As he took up the receiver a familiar voice greeted
him.

"Is that Ronnie? Yes, this is Lady Anselman. Your uncle told me to ring
you up to see if you were in. He wants you to come round."

"What, to-night?"

"Do come, Ronnie," his aunt continued. "I don't suppose it's anything
important but your uncle seems to want it. No, I sha'n't see you. I'm
just going to bed. I have been playing bridge. I'm sure the duchess
cheats--I have never won at her house in my life. I'll tell your uncle
you'll come, then, Ronnie.... Good night!"

Granet laid down the receiver. Somehow or other, the idea of action,
even at that hour of the night was a relief to him. He called to Jarvis
and gave him a few orders. Afterwards he turned out and walked through
the streets--curiously lit and busy it seemed to him--to the corner
of Park Lane, and up to the great mansion fronting the Park, which had
belonged to the Anselmans for two generations. There were few lights in
the windows. He was admitted at once and passed on to his uncle's own
servant.

"Sir Alfred is in the study, sir," the latter announced, "if you will
kindly come this way."

Granet crossed the circular hall hung with wonderful tapestry, and
passed through the sumptuously-furnished library into the smaller,
business man's study, in which Sir Alfred spent much of his time. There
were telephones upon his desk, a tape machine, and a private instrument
connected with the telegraph department.