And now, what was I to do?  To tell the truth I did not altogether desire to reopen this chapter in past history, or to have to listen to painful reminiscences from the lips of a bereaved woman.  Moreover, beautiful as she had been, for doubtless she was passee now, and charming as of course she remained—­I do not think I ever knew anyone who was quite so charming—­there was something about Lady Ragnall which alarmed me.  She did not resemble any other woman.  Of course no woman is ever quite like another, but in her case the separateness, if I may so call it, was very marked.  It was as though she had walked out of a different age, or even world, and been but superficially clothed with the attributes of our own.  I felt that from the first moment I set eyes upon her and while reading her letter the sensation returned with added force.

Also for me she had a peculiar attraction and not one of the ordinary kind.  It is curious to find oneself strangely intimate with a person of whom after all one does not know much, just as if one really knew a great deal that was shut off by a thin but quite impassable door.  If so, I did not want to open that door for who could tell what might be on the other side of it?  And intimate conversations with a lady in whose company one has shared very strange experiences, not infrequently lead to the opening of every kind of door.

Further I had made up my mind some time ago to have no more friendships with women who are so full of surprises, but to live out the rest of my life in a kind of monastery of men who have few surprises, being creatures whose thoughts are nearly always open and whose actions can always be foretold.

Lastly there was that Taduki business.  Well, there at any rate I was clear and decided.  No earthly power would induce me to have anything more to do with Taduki smoke.  Of course I remembered that Lady Ragnall once told me kindly but firmly that I would if she wished.  But that was just where she made a mistake.  For the rest it seemed unkind to refuse her invitation now when she was in trouble, especially as I had once promised that if ever I could be of help, she had only to command me.  No, I must go.  But if that word—­Taduki—­were so much as mentioned I would leave again in a hurry.  Moreover it would not be, for doubtless she had forgotten all about the stuff by now, even if it were not lost.

The end of it was that as I did not wish to write a long letter entering into all that Lady Ragnall had told me, I sent her a telegram, saying that if convenient to her, I would arrive at the Castle on the following Saturday evening and adding that I must be back here on the Tuesday afternoon, as I had guests coming to stay with me on that day.  This was perfectly true as the season was mid-November and I was to begin shooting my coverts on the Wednesday morning, a function that once fixed, cannot be postponed.

In due course an answer arrived—­“Delighted, but hoped that you would have been able to stay longer.”