her chance
for an interview with Harry. She spent twenty minutes putting together
three sentences that would not arouse his suspicions. She made two
copies, and sent them by separate messengers, one to his rooms, one to
the club, with orders they be brought back if he was not there to
receive them. Then--the miserable business of waiting in the large
house full of echoes and the round ghostly globes of electric lights,
with that thing around her neck for which--did they but know of it--half
the town would break in her windows and doors.

The wind traveled the streets without, and shook the window-casings. She
cowered over the library fire, listening. The leaping flames set her
shadow dancing like a goblin. A bell rang, and the shadow and the flame
gave a higher leap as if in welcome of what had arrived. She went to the
library door. In the glooms and lights outside Shima was standing, and
two messengers. It was odd that both should arrive at once. She stepped
back and stood waiting with a quicker pulse. Shima entered with two
letters upon his tray. She had a moment's anxiety lest both her notes
had been brought back to her, but no--the envelope which lay on top
showed Harry's writing. She tore it open hastily. Harry wrote that he
would be delighted, and might he bring a friend with him; a bully fellow
whom he wanted her to meet? He added she might send over for some girl
and they could have a jolly little party.

Flora looked at this communication blankly. Was Harry, who had always
jumped at the chance of a tete-a-tete, dodging her? In her astonishment
she let the other envelope fall. She stooped, and then for a moment
remained thus, bent above it. The superscription was not hers. The note
was not addressed to Harry, but to her, and in a handwriting she had
never seen before!

Again the peal of the electric bell. Shima appeared with a third
envelope. This time it was her own note returned to her. With the
feeling she was bewitched she took up the mysterious letter from the
floor and opened it. She read the strange handwriting:

May I see you, anywhere, at any time, to-night?
ROBERT KERR.

It was as if Kerr himself had entered the room, masked and muffled
beyond recognition, and then, face to face with her, let fall his
disguise. She gazed at the words, at the signature, thrilled and
frightened. She looked at Harry's note, hesitated; caught a glimpse
between the