s, but I've never seen the inside of
the Tower. So I don't know either."

"Oh, but I'm curious! I shall ask Mr. Beaumaroy," cried Cynthia.

The ironical character of Irechester's smile grew more pronounced, and
his voice was at its driest: "Certainly you can ask Beaumaroy, Miss
Walford. As far as asking goes, there's no difficulty."

A pause followed this pointed remark, on which nobody seemed disposed to
comment. Mrs. Naylor ended the session by rising from her chair.

But Mary Arkroyd was disquieted, worried as to how she stood with
Irechester, vaguely but insistently worried over the whole Tower
Cottage business. Well, the first point she could soon settle, or try
to settle, anyhow.

With the directness which marked her action when once her mind was made
up, she waylaid Irechester as he came into the drawing-room; her resolute
approach sufficed to detach Naylor from him; he found himself for the
moment isolated from everybody except Mary.

"You got my letter, Dr. Irechester? I--I rather expected an answer."

"Your conduct was so obviously and punctiliously correct," he replied
suavely, "that I thought my answer could wait till I met you here to-day,
as I knew that I was to have the pleasure of doing." He looked her full
in the eyes. "You were placed, my dear colleague, in a position in which
you had no alternative."

"I thought so, Dr. Irechester, but--"

"Oh yes, clearly! I'm far from making any complaint." He gave her a
courteous little bow, but it was one which plainly closed the subject.
Indeed he passed by her and joined a group that had gathered on the
hearthrug, leaving her alone.

So she stood for a minute, oppressed by a growing uneasiness.
Irechester said nothing, but surely meant something of import? He
mocked her, but not idly or out of wantonness. He seemed almost to warn
her. What could there be to warn her about? He had laid an odd emphasis
on the word "placed"; he had repeated it. Who had "placed" her there?
Mr. Saffron? Or--

Alec Naylor broke in on her uneasy meditation. "It's a clinking night,
Doctor Mary," he observed. "Do you mind if I walk Miss Walford home,
instead of her going with you in your car, you know? It's only a couple
of miles and--"

"Do you think your leg can stand it?"

He laughed. "I'll cut the thing off, if it dares to make any objection!"

CHAPTER VII

A GENTLEMANLY STRANGER

On this same Christmas Day Sergeant Hooper was feeling morose and
disconten