nce not too far from
the truth if she denied him an interview. Besides, she asked herself,
what had she to fear? Grell was safely away, and she could trust not to
betray herself.

At six o'clock to the minute a footman--whose wooden face gave no
indication of the fact that a moment before he had confidently informed
Foyle in a stage whisper, "She seemed pretty cheerful when she came in,
sir--been sitting all alone since"--brought her a card. Then Foyle was
ushered in--calm and unruffled as though he were merely making a social
call. She returned his bow frigidly.

"I hope you will not consider my call inconvenient, Lady Eileen," he
said suavely. "I considered it of importance that I should see you as
soon as possible."

She crossed her knees and regarded him composedly. "I am sorry I was out
when you called this morning. Had I known, I should have waited for
you."

The detective admired the manner in which the girl carried off a
difficult situation. She spoke quite indifferently, and yet he knew that
she was entirely on her guard. He smoothed the top of his hat with his
hand.

"Sometimes an appointment with one's bankers is a thing one can't put
off," he said blandly.

A tiny spot of colour burned in each of her cheeks and she flashed one
quick look at the detective. This was an attack in flank which she had
not expected. "My bankers?" she lied instantly, "I have not been to my
bankers'."

"I beg your pardon," he said, his voice keyed to a curious inflection.
"I was under the impression that you had--that, in fact, you changed a
cheque for L200 made payable to bearer."

She tried to hide a new feeling of alarm under a smile. "Well, and if I
did?" she challenged. "That is, of course, my private business, Mr.
Foyle. You surely haven't come to cross-examine me on my habits of
personal extravagance?"

"Partly," he countered. "Shall we be plain with one another?"

She rose and stood with one arm resting on the mantelpiece, looking down
on him. "By all means let us be plain. I am only a girl and I cannot
altogether follow the subtleties of your work."

"We are not such dreadful people really," he smiled. "We try to do
unpleasant work as little unpleasantly as possible. As you say, you are
only a girl, and although perhaps uncommonly clever, you are--if you
will pardon me--a little apt to let your impulses outreach your reason.
More than once I have tried to advise you as I would my own daughter.
Well, now, her