“I think that is an excellent plan,” decided Inez herself.  “I shall feel much safer and surely none of you can be jealous of the city detectives.”

Kennedy smiled.  She had cut the Gordian knot with a blow.  Neither Lockwood nor Whitney could object.  The purpose of the luncheon was accomplished.

In fact he did not wait for further consideration, but excused himself from the table for a moment to call up our old friend O’Connor and tell him how gravely his man was needed.  It was a matter of only a few minutes when he returned from the other room.

“He will detail Burke for this special service as long as we want him,” reported Craig, sitting down again.

Inez was delighted, naturally, for the affair had been a terrific shock to her.  I could see how relieved she felt, for I was sitting directly next to her.

The maid had, meanwhile brought in the coffee and Inez had been waiting to pour until Kennedy returned.  She did not do so, now, either, however.  It seemed as if she were waiting for some kind of signal from Kennedy.

“What a splendid view of the park you get here,” remarked Kennedy turning toward the long, low windows that opened on a balustraded balcony.  “Just look at that stream of automobiles passing on the west drive.”

Common politeness dictated that all should turn and look, although there was no novelty in the sight for any of us.

As I have said, I was sitting next to Inez.  To me she was a far more attractive sight than any view of the park.  I barely looked out of the window.  Imagine my surprise, then, at seeing her take advantage of the diversion to draw from the folds of her dress a little vial and pour a bit of yellowish, syrupy liquid into the cup of coffee which she was preparing for Whitney.

I could not help looking at her quickly.  She saw that I had seen her and raised her other hand with a finger to her lips and an explanatory glance at Kennedy who was keeping the others interested.  Instantly, I recognized the little vial which Craig had shoved into his waistcoat pocket.  That had been the purpose of his whispered conference with her when we arrived.  I said nothing, but determined to observe more closely.

More coffee and more cigarettes followed, always from the same box which was now on the table.  The luncheon developed almost a real conversation.  For the time, under the spell of our hostess, we nearly forgot that we were in reality bitter enemies.

My real interest, as time passed, centred in Whitney and I could not help watching him closely.  Was it a fact, or was it merely my imagination?  He seemed quite different.  The pupils of his eyes did not seem to be quite so dilated as they had been at other times, or even when he arrived.  Even his heart action appeared to be more normal.  I think Inez noticed it, too.  There was none of the wildness in his conversation, such as there often had been at other times.