the latch-key in his hand. What
had Fritz done that night to Rupert Carey? What would he do to-night
if--?

"What the deuce is up with you?"

Lord Holme drew in his legs, sat up and stared with a sort of uneasy
inquiry which he tried to make hard. She laughed quickly, nervously.

"I'm tired, I tell you. It was awfully hot at the opera."

She put some more ice into the lemonade, and added:

"By the way, Fritz, I suppose you locked up all right?"

"Locked up what?"

"The front door. All the servants have gone to bed, you know."

No sooner had she spoken the last words than she regretted them. If Leo
did get in they took away all excuse. She might have pretended he had
been let in. He would have had to back her up. It would have been mean
of her, of course. Still, seeing her husband there, Leo would have
understood, would have forgiven her. Women are always forgiven such
subterfuges in unfortunate moments. What a fool she was to-night!

"That don't matter," said her husband, shortly.

"But--but it does. You know how many burglaries there are. Why, only
the other night Mrs. Arthur came home from a ball and met two men on the
stairs."

"I pity any men I found on my stairs," he returned composedly, touching
the muscle of his left arm with his right hand.

He chuckled.

"They'd be sorry for themselves, I'll bet," he added.

He put down his cigarette and took out another slowly, leisurely. Lady
Holme longed to strike him. His conceited composure added fuel to the
flame of her anxiety.

"Well, anyhow, I don't care to run these risks in a place like London,
Fritz," she said almost angrily. "Have you locked up or not?"

"Damned if I remember," he drawled.

She did not know whether he was deliberately trying to irritate her or
whether he really had forgotten, but she felt it impossible to remain
any longer in uncertainty.

"Very well, then, I shall go down and see," she said.

And she laid the book of poems on a table and prepared to get up from
the sofa.

"Rot!" said Lord Holme; "if you're nervous, I'll go."

She leaned back.

"Very well."

"In a minute."

He struck a match and let it out.

"Do go now, there's a good dog," she said coaxingly.

He struck another match and held it head downwards.

"You needn't hurry a feller."

He tapped his cigarette gently on his knee, and applied the flame to it.

"That's better."

Lady Holme moved violently on the sofa. She had a pricking sensation all
ov