dy-paced lives within walking distance of their favourite clubs.
So Halfmoon Street remains quietly estimable, a desirable address, and
knows it, and doggedly means to hold fast to that repute.

A strange environment (Sofia thought) for an adventurer like the Lone Wolf.

But then--of course!--Diantha's innuendoes had been based on flimsiest
hearsay. The chances were that Michael Lanyard was an utterly uninteresting
person of blameless life.

So thinking, the Princess Sofia was sensible of a pang of regret, and tried
to be prepared against bitter disappointment as she rang the bell. Either
she would fail to obtain admittance (perhaps the lady whom he was really
expecting had forestalled her) or else Lanyard would fail to come home in
time to catch her! Quite probably it would turn out to be a dull and
depressing evening, after all....

The servant who admitted her in manner and appearance lent colour to these
forebodings. A creature hopelessly commonplace, resigned, and unemotional,
to her enquiry for Monsieur Lanyard he returned the discounted response:
Mister Lanyard was hout, 'e might not be 'ome till quite lite, but 'ad left
word that if a lidy called she was to be awsked to wite. The princess
indicating her desire to wite, the man turned to the nearest door
(Lanyard's rooms were on the street level), opened it with a pass-key,
stepped inside to make a light, and when Sofia entered silently bowed
himself out.

Now when the latch clicked behind him, the Princess Sofia forgot that the
simplicity of her success thus far was almost discouraging. Her heart began
to beat more quickly, and a little tremor shook the hands that lifted and
threw back her veil. After all, she was committing an act of lawless
trespass, she was on the errand of a thief; if caught the penalty might
prove most painful and humiliating.

Of a sudden she lost appetite entirely for a piquant encounter with the
prepossessing tenant of these rooms. Now she desired nothing so dearly as
to consummate her business and escape with all possible expedition.

A swift and searching survey of the living-room descried nothing that
seemed apt to hinder or detain her. A large room, unusually wide and deep,
it had two windows overlooking the street, with a curtained doorway at the
back that led (one surmised) to a bedchamber. It was furnished in such
excellent taste that one suspected Monsieur Lanyard must have brought in
his own belongings on taking possession