‘I thought it just as well to explain,’ said Lady Maud.

She was still pale, and in spite of her perfect outward coolness and self-reliance her eyes would have betrayed her anxiety if she had not managed them with the unconscious skill of a woman of the world who has something very important to hide.  Logotheti broke the short silence that followed her last speech.

‘I think you ought to know something I have been telling Miss Donne,’ he said simply.  ’I’ve found the man who wrote all those articles, and I’ve locked him up.’

Lady Maud leaned forward so suddenly that her loosened opera-cloak slipped down behind her, leaving her neck and shoulders bare.  Her eyes were wide open in her surprise, the pupils very dark.

‘Where?’ she asked breathlessly.  ‘Where is he?  In prison?’

‘In a more convenient and accessible place,’ answered the Greek.

He had known Lady Maud some time, but he had never seen her in the least disturbed, or surprised, or otherwise moved by anything.  It was true that he had only met her in society.

He told the story of Mr. Feist, as Margaret had heard it during dinner, and Lady Maud did not move, even to lean back in her seat again, till he had finished.  She scarcely seemed to breathe, and Logotheti felt her steady gaze on him, and would have sworn that through all those minutes she did not even wink.  When he ceased speaking she drew a long breath and sank back to her former attitude; but he saw that her white neck heaved suddenly again and again, and her delicate nostrils quivered once or twice.  For a little while there was silence in the room.  Then Lady Maud rose to go.

‘I must be going too,’ said Logotheti.

Margaret was a little sorry that she had given him such precise instructions, but did not contradict herself by asking him to stay longer.  She promised Lady Maud again to be at Craythew on Friday of the next week if possible, and certainly on Saturday, and Lady Maud and Logotheti went out together.

‘Get in with me,’ she said quietly, as he helped her into her hansom.

He obeyed, and as he sat down she told the cabman to take her to the Haymarket Theatre.  Logotheti expected her to speak, for he was quite sure that she had not taken him with her without a purpose; the more so, as she had not even asked him where he was going.

Three or four minutes passed before he heard her voice asking him a question, very low, as if she feared to be overheard.

’Is there any way of making that man tell the truth against his will?  You have lived in the East, and you must know about such things.’

Logotheti turned his almond-shaped eyes slowly towards her, but he could not see her face well, for it was not very light in the broad West End street.  She was white; that was all he could make out.  But he understood what she meant.

‘There is a way,’ he answered slowly and almost sternly.  ’Why do you ask?’