come here to ask
you that. What----"

"One moment. Let me finish. This morning Lady Eileen rose at an
unfashionable hour--about four, to be exact--and went out to obtain a
copy of the _Daily Wire_. Having deciphered the advertisement, and
finding that it afforded no direct clue to Grell's whereabouts, she
returned home and there came across a paragraph--which I will confess
was inspired in this office--that set her wondering whether, after all,
her lover was safe. She went out again--this time to Waterloo Bridge
police station--and there made some inquiries----"

Eileen had got to her feet. She was plainly angry. "I don't want to know
how effective your spying on a harmless woman can be."

"I am glad you admit it is effective," he answered quickly. "I wanted to
bring that home to you. You cannot or will not understand in how
perilous a situation you may find yourself if you go on playing with
fire. There is no one else who has fuller sympathy with you or greater
understanding of your feelings than I. Therefore I warn you. Do you know
that merely on what you have done and are doing I should, were I certain
that Grell was guilty, be justified in having you arrested as an
accessory after the fact?" His voice became very grave. "If your conduct
has not hampered this investigation, Lady Eileen, it has not been for
want of effort. Take the warning of a man who wishes you well. For
neither your position nor your friends will save you if ever you stand
in my way. I shall do my duty, whatever the consequences."

She was more impressed by his words and his tone than she would have
cared to admit. But except that her face became a shade paler, she gave
no indication that the warning touched her. Foyle had picked up his hat
and stick.

"You have not found him, then?" she cried. "Can it be doing you any harm
to say what has happened?"

"We have not found Grell--yet," he answered. "We found where he had been
hiding, but he got away."

A sigh of relief came from between her lips. She scarcely noticed the
abruptness with which he ended the interview, and returned his bow
almost with cordiality. Foyle only stayed long enough to thrust a few
papers into the safe, and then followed her out. Two resounding smacks
called his attention to the landing of the private stairs, where Chief
Detective-Inspector Green was struggling in the embrace of a stout,
matronly woman, while a half-suppressed snigger came from a passing
clerk.

Gre