immediately on his return from
dinner-parties and theatres instead of spending three or four hours in
his study. Otherwise the routine of toil went on as before. One
afternoon, happening to be in town and in the neighbourhood of St.
John's Wood, I called at the flat with the idea of asking Doria for a
cup of tea. I also had in my pocket a letter from Jaffery which I
thought might interest Adrian. The maid who opened the door informed me
that her mistress was out. Was Mr. Boldero in? Yes; but he was working.

"That doesn't matter," said I. "Tell him I'm here."

The maid did not dare disturb him. Her orders were absolute. She could
not refuse to admit me, seeing that I was already in the hall; but she
stoutly refused to announce me. I argued with the damsel.

"I may have business of the utmost importance with your master."

She couldn't help it. She had her orders.

"But, my good Ellen," said I--the minx had actually been in our service
a couple of years before!--"suppose the place were on fire, what would
you do?"

She looked at me demurely. "I think I should call a policeman, sir."

"You can call one now," said I, "for I'm going to announce myself. Don't
tell me I'll have to walk over your dead body first, for it won't do."

I know it is not looked upon as a friendly act to interrupt a man in his
work and to disregard the orders given to his servants, but I was
irritated by all this Grand Llama atmosphere of mysterious seclusion.
Besides, I had been walking and felt just a little hot and dusty and
thirsty, and I felt all the hotter, dustier and thirstier for my
argument with Ellen.

"I'll announce myself," I said, and marched to the door of Adrian's
study. It was locked. I rapped at the door.

"Who's there?" came Adrian's voice.

"Me. Hilary."

"What's the matter?"

"I happen to be a guest under your roof," said I, with a touch of
temper.

"Wait a minute," said he.

I waited about two. Then the door was unlocked and opened and I strode
in upon Adrian who looked rather pale and dishevelled.

"Why the deuce," said I, "did you keep me hanging about like that?"

"I'm sorry," he replied. "But I make it a fixed rule to put away my
work"--he waved a hand towards the safe--"whenever anybody, even Doria,
wants to come into the room."

I glanced around the cheerless place. There were no traces of work
visible. Save that the quill pens and blotting pad were inky, his
library table seemed as immaculate, as u