y is hard
to seek in Grosvenor Square."

"The common mistake of all men," Sir Timothy continued, "and women, too,
for the matter of that, is that we will persist in formulating doctrines
for other people. Every man or woman is an entity of humanity, with a
separate heaven and a separate hell. No two people can breathe the same
air in the same way, or see the same picture with the same eyes."

Lady Cynthia rose to her feet and shook out the folds of her diaphanous
gown, daring alike in its shapelessness and scantiness. She lit a
cigarette and laid her hand upon Sir Timothy's arm.

"Come," she said, "must I remind you of your promise? You are to show me
the stables at The Walled House before it is dark."

"You would see them better in the morning," he reminded her, rising with
some reluctance to his feet.

"Perhaps," she answered, "but I have a fancy to see them now."

Sir Timothy looked back at the table.

"Margaret," he said, "will you look after Mr. Ledsam for a little time?
You will excuse us, Ledsam? We shall not be gone long."

They moved away together towards the shrubbery and the door in the wall
behind. Francis resumed his seat.

"Are you not also curious to penetrate the mysteries behind the wall,
Mr. Ledsam?" Margaret asked.

"Not so curious but that I would much prefer to remain here," he
answered.

"With me?"

"With you."

She knocked the ash from her cigarette. She was looking directly at
him, and he fancied that there was a gleam of curiosity in her beautiful
eyes. There was certainly a little more abandon about her attitude. She
was leaning back in a corner of her high-backed chair, and her gown,
although it lacked the daring of Lady Cynthia's, seemed to rest about
her like a cloud of blue-grey smoke.

"What a curious meal!" she murmured. "Can you solve a puzzle for me, Mr.
Ledsam?"

"I would do anything for you that I could," he answered.

"Tell me, then, why my father asked you here to-night? I can understand
his bringing you to the opera, that was just a whim of the moment,
but an invitation down here savours of deliberation. Studiously polite
though you are to one another, one is conscious all the time of the
hostility beneath the surface."

"I think that so far as your father is concerned, it is part of his
peculiar disposition," Francis replied. "You remember he once said that
he was tired of entertaining his friends--that there was more pleasure
in having an enemy at the board