;
and, finally, "Margaret's Involution" had planted them in Belgrave
Square. Now, with each of these works of genius Mrs. Greyne had taken
what she called "a new departure." Mr. Greyne's remark is, therefore,
explicable.

"True. Still, there is always Park Lane."

She mused for a moment. Then, leaning more heavily upon the carved lions
of her chair, she continued:

"Hitherto, although I have sometimes dealt with human frailty, I have
treated it gently. I have never betrayed a Zola-spirit."

"Zola! My darling!" cried Mr. Eustace Greyne. "You are surely not going
to betray anything of that sort now!"

"If she does we shall soon have to move off to West Kensington," was his
secret thought.

"No. But in book six of 'Catherine' I have to deal with sin, with
tumult, with African frailty. It is inevitable."

She sighed once more. The burden of the new book was very heavy upon
her.

"African frailty!" murmured the astonished Eustace Greyne.

"Now, neither you nor I, my husband, know anything about this."

"Certainly not, my darling. How should we? We have never explored beyond
Lucerne."

"We must, therefore, get to know about it--at least you must. For I
cannot leave London. The continuity of the brain's travelling must not
be imperiled by any violent bodily activity. In the present stage of my
book a sea journey might be disastrous."

"Certainly you should keep quiet, my love. But then---"

"You must go for me to Algiers. There you must get me what I want. I
fear you will have to poke about in the native quarters a good deal for
it, so you had better buy two revolvers, one for yourself and one for
Darrell."

Mr. Greyne gasped. The calmness of his wife amazed him. He was not
intellectual enough to comprehend fully the deep imaginings of a mighty
brain, the obsession work is in the worker.

"African frailty is what I want," pursued Mrs. Greyne. "One hundred
closely-printed pages of African frailty. You will collect for me the
raw material, and I shall so manipulate it that it will fall discreetly,
even elevatingly, into the artistic whole. Do you understand me,
Eustace?"

"I am to travel to Algiers, and see all the wickedness to be seen there,
take notes of it, and bring them back to you."

"Precisely."

"And how long am I to stay?"

"Until you have made yourself acquainted with the depths."

"A fortnight?"

"I should think that would be enough. Take Brush's remedy for
seasickness and plenty of anti