cards. His name was Gaston Suzor, and
between Paris and Calais we discussed many things, for he was a
well-informed man and a true hater of the Boches. On the steamer we
strolled upon the deck together, and we passed quite a pleasant
journey in company. He was surprised that I had been in Italy, but I
explained that I had been granted long leave of absence by my firm,
and that I had gone to Florence upon private affairs.

We parted at Charing Cross, Monsieur Suzor to go to the Carlton, and I
home to our little flat in Rivermead Mansions.

A note lay upon the dining-room table. Hambledon was away in Cardiff,
and he had left word in case I should return unexpectedly. The place
was cold and fireless, and I was glad to go over to the Claredon to
have my dinner.

My one thought was of Gabrielle Tennison, who lived with her mother in
a maisonette at Earl's Court. So I took a taxi to Longridge Road, and
after numerous inquiries at neighbouring shops in Earl's Court Road, I
discovered in which house lived Mrs. Tennison and her daughter. The
hour was late, therefore I felt that it was useless to keep
observation upon the place in the hope of the girl coming forth.

I had no excuse to make a call. Besides, I might, if I acted
indiscreetly, destroy all my chances of solving the strange enigma.

Therefore not until ten o'clock on the following morning did I take up
my vigilant watch at the end of the road, at a spot from which I had
full view of the house in question. My watch proved a long and weary
one, for not until three o'clock in the afternoon was my patience
rewarded.

The front door suddenly opened, and down the steps came the slim
figure of a girl, followed by a woman. As they approached me I saw
that it was the girl I had seen with Moroni in Florence, while the
woman was, from her dress, evidently an old servant.

The girl of mystery was attired quite smartly in black, her appearance
being very different from the shabby figure she presented in Florence.
But her beautiful countenance was just as pathetic, with that strange
set expression of ineffable sadness. She passed me by without glancing
at me, while the stout, homely woman at her side held her arm linked
in hers.

They turned into Earl's Court Road and walked towards Kensington High
Street, while I followed at a respectable distance. I could not fail
to notice the grace of carriage of the girl whose listless attitude
was so mysterious, and whose exact where