t
moment.

"What does this man not know?" she thought.

He might have little, or no, ordinary learning, but she was positive
that he had an almost appallingly intimate knowledge of many chapters in
the dark books of life.

"Shall we--?" said Arabian.

And they walked on slowly together.

"May I make a suggestion, Miss Van Tuyn," he said gently.

"What is it?"

"My little flat is close by, in Rose Tree Gardens. It is not quite
arranged, but tea will be ready. Let me please offer you a cup of tea
and a cigarette. There is a taxi!"

He made a signal with his left hand.

"We will keep it at the door, so that you may at once leave when you
feel refreshed. You have had this bad shock. You need a moment to
recover."

The cab stopped beside them.

"No, I must really go home," she said, with an attempt at determination.

"Of course! But please let me have the privilege. You have told me
first of all of your grief. This is real friendship. Let me then be also
friendly, and help you to recover yourself."

"But really I must--"

"Four, Rose Tree Gardens! You know them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good!"

The taxi glided away from the kerb.

And Miss Van Tuyn made no further protest. She had a strange feeling
just then that her will had abandoned her. Fanny Cronin's message must
have had an imperious effect upon her. Yet she still felt no real sorrow
at her father's death. She seemed to be enveloped in something which
made mental activity difficult, indeed almost impossible.

When the cab stopped, she said:

"I can only stay five minutes."

"Certainly! Dear Mademoiselle Cronin will expect you. Please wait for
the lady!"

Miss Van Tuyn was vaguely glad to hear him say that to the chauffeur.

She got out and looked upwards. She saw a big block of flats towering up
in front of her.

"On the other side they face the river Thames," said Arabian. "All my
windows except three look out that way. We will go up in the elevator."

They passed through a handsome hall and stepped into the lift, which
carried them up to the fourth floor of the building. Arabian put a
latch-key into a polished mahogany door with a big letter M in brass
nailed to it.

"Please!" he said, standing back for Miss Van Tuyn to pass in.

But she hesitated. She saw a pretty little hall, a bunch of roses in a
vase on a Chippendale table, two or three closed doors. She was aware
of a very faint and pleasant odour, like the odour of flowers not roses