"hung up," a few miles away, owing to the breakdown of a "freighter."  Instead of regret at this news, I felt joy. It gave me—with luck—a way out of my difficulty. Here was the Head Sister, waiting for Maida Odell; but if my car could get me to the delayed train before it was restarted only Maida herself could keep me from saying what I had come to say. 

 There wasn't a moment to waste, and I didn't waste one. Thinking I had won the first point in the game, I hurried to my car without glancing back at the veiled woman. I gave directions to West and was about to get into the auto, when a look in the chauffeur's eye made me turn. Close behind stood the grey lady. There was no doubt that her purpose was to speak to me. I took off my hat and faced her; but it was like trying to look at the moon through a thick London fog. 

 "You are Lord John Hasle, I believe?" she said, in a resonant contralto voice, with a slight suggestion of foreign accent.  "I have heard of you," she went on.  "You have been pointed out to me, and I know of your acquaintance with the Odells. You are going to motor back along the line. Your inquiries told me that. I would thank you, and so would Miss Odell, for taking me to her in your car." 

 Here was a situation! Rudely to refuse a favour asked by a lady, or—to lose, for ever, perhaps, my one hope? I chose to be rude. I stammered that I meant to go at such a pace it would be risking her life to grant the request. Very sorry; more lifting of the hat; a sheepish look of feigned regret; and then West, thoroughly ashamed of me, started the car. The next moment we had shot away, but not without a startling impression. 

 "The worst turn you can possibly do Miss Odell will be to prevent her coming into the Sisterhood House. It is the one place where she can be safe."  Those were the words I heard over the noise of the starting motor; and as we left the tall statue of a woman, the high wind blew her thick veil partly aside. Instantly she pulled it into place; but I had time to see that the face underneath was covered with a grey mask. The effect on my mind of this revelation was of something so sinister that I felt physically sick. What could be the motive for such double precautions of concealment? Was it merely to hide a disfigurement, I wondered, or was there a more powerful reason? I determined to tell Miss Odell what I had seen. 

 Fortunately there was little traffic on the country road at that hour, and we did the eight miles in about eight minutes. I thanked my lucky stars 

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