th me, Mr. Tarling?"

For answer, Tarling took from his pocket a flat oblong box. The girl
looked wonderingly as he opened the lid and drew forth a slip of
porcelain covered with a thin film of black ink and two white cards.
His hand shook as he placed them on the table and suddenly the girl
understood.

"You want my finger prints?" she asked and he nodded.

"I just hate asking you," he said, "but----"

"Show me how to do it," she interrupted and he guided her.

He felt disloyal--a very traitor, and perhaps she realised what he was
thinking, for she laughed as she wiped her stained finger tips.

"Duty's duty," she mocked him, "and now tell me this--are you going to
keep me under observation all the time?"

"For a little while," said Tarling gravely. "In fact, until we get the
kind of information we want."

He put away the box into his pocket as she shook her head.

"That means you're not going to tell us anything," said Tarling. "I think
you are making a very great mistake, but really I am not depending upon
your saying a word. I depend entirely upon----"

"Upon what?" she asked curiously as he hesitated.

"Upon what others will tell me," said Tarling

"Others? What others?"

Her steady eyes met his.

"There was once a famous politician who said 'Wait and see,'" said
Tarling, "advice which I am going to ask you to follow. Now, I will tell
you something, Miss Rider," he went on. "To-morrow I am going to take
away your watchers, though I should advise you to remain at this hotel
for a while. It is obviously impossible for you to go back to your flat."

The girl shivered.

"Don't talk about that," she said in a low voice. "But is it necessary
that I should stay here?"

"There is an alternative," he said, speaking slowly, "an alternative," he
said looking at her steadily, "and it is that you should go to your
mother's place at Hertford."

She looked up quickly.

"That is impossible," she said.

He was silent for a moment.

"Why don't you make a confidant of me, Miss Rider?" he said. "I should
not abuse your trust. Why don't you tell me something about your father?"

"My father?" she looked at him in amazement. "My father, did you say?"

He nodded.

"But I have no father," said the girl.

"Have you----" he found a difficulty in framing his words and it seemed
to him that she must have guessed what was coming. "Have you a lover?"
he asked at length.

"What do you mean?" she countered, and the