ss
to define her peculiar accent, now it seemed evidently enough to
have been Oriental.

I threw down my pen in despair, for work was impossible, went
downstairs, and walked out under the arch into Fleet Street. Quite
mechanically I turned to the left, and, still engaged with idle
conjectures, strolled along westward.

Passing the entrance to one of the big hotels, I was abruptly
recalled to the realities--by a woman's voice.

"Wait for me here," came musically to my ears.

I stopped, and turned. A woman who had just quitted a taxi-cab was
entering the hotel. The day was hot and thunderously oppressive,
and this woman with the musical voice wore a delicate costume of
flimsiest white. A few steps upward she paused and glanced back.
I had a view of a Greek profile, and for one magnetic instant looked
into eyes of the deepest and most wonderful violet.

Then, shaking off inaction, I ran up the steps and overtook the
lady in white as a porter swung open the door to admit her. We
entered together.

"Madame," I said in a low tone, "I must detain you for a moment.
There is something I have to ask."

She turned, exhibiting the most perfect composure, lowered her
lashes and raised them again, the gaze of the violet eyes sweeping
me from head to foot with a sort of frigid scorn.

"I fear you have made a mistake, sir. We have never met before!"

Her voice betrayed no trace of any foreign accent!

"But," I began--and paused.

I felt myself flush; for this encounter in the foyer of an hotel,
with many curious onlookers, was like to prove embarrassing if my
beautiful acquaintance persisted in her attitude. I fully realized
what construction would be put upon my presence there, and foresaw
that forcible and ignominious ejection must be my lot if I failed
to establish my right to address her.

She turned away, and crossed in the direction of the staircase.
A sunbeam sought out a lock of hair that strayed across her brow,
and kissed it to a sudden glow like that which lurks in the heart
of a blush rose.

That wonderful sheen, which I had never met with elsewhere in
nature, but which no artifice could lend, served to remove my last
frail doubt which had survived the evidence of the violet eyes. I
had been deceived by no strange resemblance; this was indeed the
woman who had been the harbinger of Professor Deeping's death. In
three strides I was beside her again. Curious glances were set
upon me, and I saw a se