omething very particular to say to
you. I wish you'd stop here on your way uptown."

"Why, certainly," he agreed without hesitation or apprehension.

The actress had put up, in accordance with her custom, at a handsome,
expensive and world-famous hotel in the immediate neighbourhood of
Staff's rooms. Consequently he found himself in her presence within
fifteen minutes from the end of their talk by telephone.

Dressed for the street and looking uncommonly handsome, she was waiting
for him in the sitting-room of her suite. As he entered, she came
forward and gave him a cool little hand and a greeting as cool. He
received both with an imperturbability founded (he discovered to his
great surprise) on solid indifference. It was hard to realise that he no
longer cared for her, or whether she were pleased or displeased with
him. But he didn't. He concluded, not without profound amazement, that
his passion for her which had burned so long and brightly had been no
more than sentimental incandescence. And he began to think himself a
very devil of a fellow, who could toy with the love of women with such
complete insouciance, who could off with the old love before he had
found a new and care not a rap!...

Throughout this self-analysis he was mouthing commonplaces--assuring her
that the day was fine, that he had never felt better, that she was
looking her charming best. Of a sudden his vision comprehended an
article which adorned the centre-table; and words forsook him and his
jaw dropped.

It was _the_ bandbox: not that which he had left, with its cargo of
trash, in his rooms.

Alison followed his glance, elevated her brows, and indicated the box
with a wave of her arm.

"And what d' you know about that?" she enquired bluntly.

"Where did it come from?" he counter-questioned, all agape.

"I'm asking you."

"But--I know nothing about it. Did Miss Searle send it--?"

"I can't say," replied the actress drily. "Your name on the tag has been
scratched out and mine, with this address, written above it."

Staff moved over to the table and while he was intently scrutinising the
tag, Alison continued:

"It came by messenger about eight this morning; Jane brought it to me
when I got up a little while ago."

"The hat was in it?" he asked.

She nodded impatiently: "Oh, of course--with the lining half ripped out
and the necklace missing."

"Curious!" he murmured.

"Rather," she agreed. "What do you make of it?"

"This a