window panes and
the big blind which was next the room, so that, if pulled down, a
person standing within would see no lace curtains at all, while at
the same time they would remain distinctly visible to anybody
standing without.

If this small discrepancy called for any comment, Cleek made none
audibly; merely glanced at the blind and glanced away again, and went
on examining the books and the vases of flowers, and continued his
apparently aimless wandering about the room.

Of a sudden, however, he did a singular thing, one which was fraught
with much significance to Mr. Narkom, who knew the "signs" so well.
His wandering had brought him within touching distance of the busy
waxworker, who, just at that moment, half turned and stretched forth
his hand to pick up a tool which had fallen to the floor, the act of
recovering which sent his wrist protruding a bit beyond the cuff of
his working-blouse. What Narkom saw was the quick twitch of Cleek's
eye in the direction of that hand, then its swift travelling to
the man's face and travelling off again to other things; and he knew
what was coming when his great ally began to pat his pockets and
rummage about his person as if endeavouring to find something.

"My luck!" said Cleek, with an impatient jerk of the head. "Not
a blessed cigarette with me, Mr. Narkom; and you know what a duffer
I am if I can't smoke when I'm trying to think. I say--nip out,
will you, and get me a packet? There!"--scribbling something on a
leaf from his notebook and pushing it into the superintendent's
hand--"that's the brand I like. It's no use bringing me any other.
Look 'em up for me, will you? There's a good friend."

Narkom made no reply, but merely left the room with the paper
crumpled in his shut hand and went downstairs as fast as he could
travel. What he did in the interval is a matter for further
consideration. At present it need only be said that had any one
looked across the short passage some eight or ten minutes after his
departure Narkom might have been seen standing in the background
of the room at whose window Mrs. Sherman and her daughter still
sat sewing.

Meanwhile Cleek appeared to have forgotten all about the matter which
was the prime reason for his presence in the place and to have become
absorbingly interested in the business of tableau making, for he
plied the old Italian with endless questions relative to the one
he was engaged in constructing.

"Jip! You don't mean