had arrived. Also it inquired in stiff language whether the writer might
be permitted to place it in her hands.

Angela laughed as she read, partly with pleasure because her bag was
found, partly because the poor young man's stiffness amused her. She knew
enough about him now to understand that it was shyness and ignorance of
social customs; but earlier she might have thought she had offended him.
"Anyway, he writes a good hand," she thought. "Full of character and
strength and not a bit uneducated."

"Ask Mr. Hilliard to come to my sitting-room," she said to the bellboy.

A few minutes later Nick appeared, his manner strained in a painful
endeavour to hide anxiety.

"So you've got my bag. How splendid!" Angela exclaimed, as they shook
hands. "I'm sure I have your efforts to thank more than those of the
police."

"No, indeed," said Nick valiantly. "The police of this town are a fine set
of men."

"How did they find it?" she asked eagerly.

Nick looked grave.

"Well, it seems there's--er--a kind of secret concerned," he explained.
"The thing required is that we don't ask questions. And perhaps you'll
agree, for what you want is the bag."