ke to be baffled. It makes me angry.
But during this interview with Lola Brandt I had not time to be angry.
I am angry now. In fact I am in a condition bordering on that of a mad
dog. If Rogers came and disturbed me now, as I am writing, I would bite
him. But I will set calmly down the story of this appalling afternoon.

Lola stood before me wringing her hands.

"What are you going to do?"

"I can get an introduction to the _Chef de bureau_ of the information
department of the _Ministere de la Guerre_ in Paris," I replied after
a moment's reflection. "He will be able to tell me whether Captain
Vauvenarde is alive or dead."

"He is alive. He must be."

"Very well. But I doubt whether Captain Vauvenarde keeps the office
informed of his movements."

"But you'll go in search of him, won't you?"

"The earth is rather a large place," I objected. "He may be in Dieppe,
or he may be on top of Mount Popocatapetl."

"I'm sure you'll find him," she said encouragingly.

"You'll own," said I, "that there's something humourous in the idea
of my wandering all over the surface of the planet in search of a
lost captain of Chasseurs. It is true that we might employ a private
detective."

"Yes!" she cried eagerly. "Why not? Then you could stay here--and I
could go on seeing you till the news came. Let us do that."

The swiftness of her change of mood surprised me.

"What is the particular object of your going on seeing me?" I asked,
with a smile.

She turned away and shrugged her shoulders and took up her pensive
attitude by the fire.

"I have no other friend," she said.

"There's Dale."

"He's not the same."

"There's Sir Joshua Oldfield."

She shrugged her shoulders.

I lit a cigarette and sat down. There was a long silence. In some
unaccountable way she had me under her spell again. I felt a perfectly
insane dismay at the prospect of ending this queer intimacy, and I
viewed her intrigue with Dale with profound distaste. Lola had become a
habit. The chair I was sitting in was _my_ chair. Adolphus was _my_ dog.
I hated the idea of Dale making him stand up and do sentry with the fire
shovel, while Lola sprawled gracefully on the hearthrug. On the other
hand the thought of remaining in London and sharing with my young friend
the privilege of her society was intolerable.

I smoked, and, watching her bosom rise and fall as she leaned forward
with one arm on the mantelpiece, argued it out with myself, and came to
th