“That’s where we got yours.”

She pinched my arm.

“Will you listen?  We must have got to the shop directly you’d left.  The one you’d bought was still lying there.  We both thought it feet above any other rug there, and, when they said it was sold, I nearly cried.  We were so fed up that we said we wouldn’t get a rug at all, and went off to look at book-cases and chests of drawers.  I didn’t get home till six, and, when I did, there was your present.  Are you satisfied?”

“Overwhelmed.”

“Good.  Now, who’s the lady?”

“That’s just what I can’t tell you.  I know her voice, but not her countenance.  Her name is Dot—­Lady Dot.  She drives in a blue limousine and she’s here to-night.”

Maisie assumed a serious air.

“This,” she said, “is terrible.  Does your life depend upon finding her?  I mean ... it’s worse than a needle in a bundle of hay, isn’t it?”

“Infinitely.”

“You can wash out the limousine, because you won’t see it.  And the voice, because you won’t hear it.  And her name, because she won’t be labelled.  There’s really nothing left, is there?”

Gloomily I assented.

“I’m sorry,” said Maisie.  “I’d like to have helped.”  The music slowed up and died.  “And now will you see me off?”

We made our way towards the exit.

I had found her footman and sent him to summon the car, and was standing within the main entrance, when a familiar figure began with difficulty to emerge from a car which had just arrived.  Berry.  Having succeeded in projecting himself on to the steps, he turned to hand his companion out of the car, as he did so presenting to the astonished doorkeepers a back of such startling dimensions that the one nearest to me recoiled, for all his seasoning.

I was wondering who was the muffled Samaritan that had brought him along, when the chauffeur leaned forward as if to receive instructions when to return.  The light of the near-side lamp showed me the genial features of that communicative fellow who had restored my grey hat some nine days before.

Tall and slight, his mistress turned to the doorway, and I saw a well-shaped head, couped at the throat by the white of an ermine stole.  Dark hair swept low over her forehead, an attractive smile sat on her pretty mouth, and there was a fine colour springing in her cheeks.

She looked up to see me staring.

For a moment a pair of grey eyes met mine steadily.  Then—­

“Is the car here?” said Maisie over my shoulder.  “Hullo, Berry.”  Suddenly she saw his companion.  “Betty, my dear, I thought you were in Scotland.”

Under pretence of arranging her wrap, I breathed Into her ear—­

“Introduce me.”

She did so without a tremor.

“And give him the next dance for me,” she added.  “I’ve just cut one of his, and he’s been most forgiving.”

“Too late,” said Berry.  “I have not wasted the shining thirty minutes which I have just spent in Lady Elizabeth’s luxurious car.  She knows him for the craven that he is.”