seemed to be hurrying along as if desirous of avoiding
recognition. Every now and again she glanced back, evidently in search
of a cab, and a dormant suspicion which had lain in Harley's mind now
became animate. Phil Abingdon was coming from the direction of the Savoy
Hotel. Was it possible that she had been to visit Ormuz Khan?

Harley crossed the Strand and paused just in front of the hurrying,
black-clad figure. "Miss Abingdon," he said, "a sort of instinct told me
that I should meet you to-day."

She stopped suddenly, and through the black veil which she wore he saw
her eyes grow larger--or such was the effect as she opened them widely.
Perhaps he misread their message. To him Phil Abingdon's expression was
that of detected guilt. More than ever he was convinced of the truth of
his suspicions. "Perhaps you were looking for a cab?" he suggested.

Overcoming her surprise, or whatever emotion had claimed her at
the moment of this unexpected meeting, Phil Abingdon took Harley's
outstretched hand and held it for a moment before replying. "I had
almost despaired of finding one," she said, "and I am late already."

"The porter at the Savoy would get you one."

"I have tried there and got tired of waiting," she answered quite
simply.

For a moment Harley's suspicions were almost dispelled, and, observing
an empty cab approaching, he signalled to the man to pull up.

"Where do you want to go to?" he inquired, opening the door.

"I am due at Doctor McMurdoch's," she replied, stepping in.

Paul Harley hesitated, glancing from the speaker to the driver.

"I wonder if you have time to come with me," said Phil Abingdon. "I know
the doctor wants to see you."

"I will come with pleasure," replied Harley, a statement which was no
more than true.

Accordingly he gave the necessary directions to the taxi man and seated
himself beside the girl in the cab.

"I am awfully glad of an opportunity of a chat with you, Mr. Harley,"
said Phil Abingdon. "The last few days have seemed like one long
nightmare to me." She sighed pathetically. "Surely Doctor McMurdoch is
right, and all the horrible doubts which troubled us were idle ones,
after all?"

She turned to Harley, looking almost eagerly into his face. "Poor daddy
hadn't an enemy in the world, I am sure," she said. "His extraordinary
words to you no doubt have some simple explanation. Oh, it would be such
a relief to know that his end was a natural one. At least it would du