aturday.

"You can't pretend you are working overtime at the F.O. to-morrow," she
said.

Craven replied that the F.O. kept him very long even on Saturdays.

"What's the matter? What are you angry about?" asked Miss Van Tuyn
through the telephone.

Craven intended to make a quietly evasive reply, but he found himself
saying:

"If I work overtime at the F.O., are there not others who do much the
same--in Glebe Place?"

After a pause Miss Van Tuyn said:

"I haven't an idea what you mean."

Craven said nothing. Already he was angry with himself, and regretted
his impulsiveness.

"Well?" said Miss Van Tuyn.

"Well?" retorted Craven, feeling rather absurd.

Again there was a pause. Then, speaking quickly, Miss Van Tuyn said: "If
you can escape from the F.O. you might be in Glebe Place about five on
Monday. Good-bye!"

And she rang off, leaving Craven with the pleasant sensation that, as
often before, he had "given himself away." Certainly he had shown Miss
Van Tuyn his jealousy. She must have guessed what his mention of Glebe
Place meant. And yet she had asked him to go there on the following
Monday. If he did not go perhaps that neglect would cancel his
imprudence at the telephone.

He made up his mind not to go.

Nevertheless, when he left the Foreign Office on the Monday about
half-past four, instead of going towards Mayfair he found himself
walking quickly in the direction of Chelsea.

CHAPTER VI

Miss Van Tuyn was in Garstin's studio on that day. Although apparently
calm and self-possessed she was in a condition of acute nervous
excitement. Craven's mention of Glebe Place through the telephone had
startled her. At once she had understood. People had begun to gossip,
and the gossip had reached Craven's ears. She had reddened as she stood
by the telephone. A definite sensation of anxiety mingled with shame
had crept in her. But it had been succeeded by a decisive feeling more
really characteristic of her. As Craven now evidently knew of her close
acquaintance with Arabian the two men should meet. She would conquer her
reluctance, and put Arabian to the test with Craven. For a long time she
had wished to know what Craven would think of Arabian; for a long time,
too, she had been afraid to know. But now she would hesitate no more.
Dick Garstin was to have a sitting from Arabian on the Monday afternoon.
It ought to be over about half-past four. She could easily manage to
prolong matters in the studi