"Cosy
little place, I call it."

Something in the man's expression as he advanced towards her brought all
the iciness back to her tone and manner.

"It is a pleasant apartment," she said, "but I am not at all sure that
I like being here, and I certainly dislike our errand. It does not seem
credible that, if the police have already searched, we should find the
packet here."

"The police don't know what to look for," he reminded her. "We do."

There was apparently very little delicacy about Mr. Fenn. He drew a
chair to the desk and began to look through a pile of papers, making
running comments as he did so.

"Hm! Our friend seems to have been quite a collector of old books. I
expect second-hand booksellers found him rather a mark. Some fellow
here thanking him for a loan. And here's a tailor's bill. By Jove, Miss
Abbeway, just listen to this! `One dress suit-fourteen guineas!' That's
the way these fellows who don't know any better chuck their money
about," he added, swinging around in his chair towards her. "The clothes
I have on cost me exactly four pounds fifteen cash, and I guarantee his
were no better."

Catherine frowned impatiently.

"We did not come here, did we, Mr. Fenn, to discuss Mr. Orden's tailor's
bill? I can see no object at all in going through his correspondence
in this way. What you have to search for is a packet wrapped up in thin
yellow oilskin, with `Number 17' on the outside in black ink."

"Oh, he might have slipped it in anywhere," Fenn pointed out. "Besides,
there's always a chance that one of his letters may give us a clue as to
where he has hidden the document. Come and sit down by the side of me,
won't you, Miss Abbeway? Do!"

"I would rather stand, thank you," she replied. "You seem to find your
present occupation to your taste. I should loathe it!"

"Never think of my own feelings," Fenn said briskly, "when there's a job
to be done. I wish you'd be a bit more friendly, though, Miss Abbeway.
Let me pull that chair up by the side of mine. I like to have you
near. You know, I've been a bachelor for a good many years," he went on
impressively, "but a little homey place like this always makes me think
of things. I've nothing against marriage if only a man can be lucky
enough to get the right sort of girl, and although advanced thinkers
like you and me and some of the others are looking at things
differently, nowadays, I wouldn't mind much which way it was," he
confided, dropping his