what purpose, intrigued the imagination no end. Lanyard inclined to credit
Princess Sofia with the indiscretion of saving these souvenirs of a grande
passion that had almost made history. There was the sentimental motive to
account for such action, and another: the satisfaction of knowing she had
concrete proof of her intention to treat Victor as he had treated her.

Then somehow the painting must have passed out of her possession; and in
all likelihood she had made frantic and awkward efforts to regain it which
had aroused the suspicions of Victor; with the sequel of that afternoon....

Lanyard's speculations were interrupted by the peremptory telephone.
Without premonition he picked up the combination receiver and transmitter.
But his memory was still so haunted by echoes of that delightful voice
which he had heard in the auction room, he couldn't entertain any doubt
that he heard it now.

"Are you there?" it said "Will you be good enough to put me through to
Monsieur Lanyard?"

The inspiration to mischief was instantaneous: Lanyard replied promptly in
accents as much unlike his own as he could manage:

"Sorry, ma'am; Mister Lanyard dined hout to-night. Would there be any
message, ma'am?"

"Oh, how annoying!"

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Do you know when he will be home?"