The outline of her face was soft and charming, and there was a
questioning look in her eyes which was alluring and challenging.
Her naive expression was palpably a pose, and her slightly parted
lips promised laughter. She possessed delightfully wavy hair and
her neck and one shoulder, which were bare, had a Grecian purity.
Harley discovered himself to be smiling at the naive lady of the
photograph.

"Presumably 'Miss Phil'," he said aloud.

He removed his gaze with reluctance from the fascinating picture,
and dropping into the big lounge chair, he lighted a cigarette.
He had just placed the match in an ash tray when he heard Sir
Charles's voice in the lobby, and a moment later Sir Charles
himself came hurrying into the library. His expression was so
peculiar that Harley started up immediately, perceiving that
something unusual had happened.

"My dear Mr. Harley," began Sir Charles, "in the first place pray
accept my apologies--"

"None are necessary," Harley interrupted. "Your excellent
housekeeper has entertained me vastly."

"Good, good," muttered Sir Charles. "I am obliged to Mrs.
Howett," and it was plainly to be seen that his thoughts were
elsewhere. "But I have to relate a most inexplicable
occurrence--inexplicable unless by some divine accident the plan
has been prevented from maturing."