t he would not recognize her, yet
she would have been better pleased had the guest proved to be a total
stranger. However, there was nothing for it but to hope for the best.

At a few minutes past eight the front door bell rang, and Tuppence went
to answer it with some inward trepidation. She was relieved to see that
the visitor was the second of the two men whom Tommy had taken upon
himself to follow.

He gave his name as Count Stepanov. Tuppence announced him, and Mrs.
Vandemeyer rose from her seat on a low divan with a quick murmur of
pleasure.

"It is delightful to see you, Boris Ivanovitch," she said.

"And you, madame!" He bowed low over her hand.

Tuppence returned to the kitchen.

"Count Stepanov, or some such," she remarked, and affecting a frank and
unvarnished curiosity: "Who's he?"

"A Russian gentleman, I believe."

"Come here much?"

"Once in a while. What d'you want to know for?"

"Fancied he might be sweet on the missus, that's all," explained the
girl, adding with an appearance of sulkiness: "How you do take one up!"

"I'm not quite easy in my mind about the souffle," explained the other.

"You know something," thought Tuppence to herself, but aloud she only
said: "Going to dish up now? Right-o."

Whilst waiting at table, Tuppence listened closely to all that was said.
She remembered that this was one of the men Tommy was shadowing when she
had last seen him. Already, although she would hardly admit it, she was
becoming uneasy about her partner. Where was he? Why had no word of any
kind come from him? She had arranged before leaving the Ritz to have
all letters or messages sent on at once by special messenger to a small
stationer's shop near at hand where Albert was to call in frequently.
True, it was only yesterday morning that she had parted from Tommy, and
she told herself that any anxiety on his behalf would be absurd. Still,
it was strange that he had sent no word of any kind.

But, listen as she might, the conversation presented no clue. Boris and
Mrs. Vandemeyer talked on purely indifferent subjects: plays they had
seen, new dances, and the latest society gossip. After dinner they
repaired to the small boudoir where Mrs. Vandemeyer, stretched on the
divan, looked more wickedly beautiful than ever. Tuppence brought in the
coffee and liqueurs and unwillingly retired. As she did so, she heard
Boris say:

"New, isn't she?"

"She came in to-day. The other was a fiend. This girl see