the old timepiece had for him.

“I was longing for some one to talk to. Just returned from a little trip to Rome. What’s the news?”

53“Oh, I have just dropped in for a smoke. Where’s your whisky? I am drenched through. The felsa of that confounded gondola leaked.”

53

I caught the swift glance that took in every detail of my room. I waved my hand to the side-board.

“Help yourself. I’ll join you presently, when I have slipped into a bath-robe. You’ll find the cigarettes by the whisky.”

I stepped into my room. I heard the fizz of the siphon. I caught the fumes of his cigarette. I heard the creak of a wicker-chair as he threw himself into it. Then there was silence. I was about to rejoin him, when I happened to look into my mirror. St. Hilary was reflected in it, and he was opening a coat-closet.

I whistled noisily, and put my eye to a crack in the door. He was looking into a cabinet. Then he pulled aside the portière that hid the deep recess of the window. Another puzzled glance about the room, and he sank noiselessly into the chair. It was not difficult to put two and two together. He was looking for Mrs. Gordon’s clock. Well, he should satisfy himself thoroughly that it was not on my premises. Then I would wait for his next move. I entered my sitting-room, still whistling.

“Just a word to my man, and I’m ready for 54our smoke,” I said, and went into the sala. I banged the door after me, but took pains to leave it carefully ajar.

54

It was as I thought. He promptly slipped into my bedroom. I waited considerately for him to resume his seat before joining him.

“Well, indefatigable peerer and pryer for the rare and odd, what is the news of the past ten days?” I asked, reaching for the Scotch.

I knew he was watching me closely. The nouns were a trifle suggestive.

“No news so far as I know. I have been buried in the palazzo of the duke, making an inventory of things. Interesting old palace, eh?”

I nodded, and blew a cloud of cigarette-smoke into the air.

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