write, if your tastes ran that way. Nowadays, it seems to be the
fashion to record one's experiences in print, if--if they should
happen to be in any way exceptional. I can think of nothing else!"

"I am very much obliged to you," Wingrave said. "Your suggestions are
eminently practical. I will think them over. Don't let me keep you any
longer!"

"About this evening," Rocke remarked. "Shall I fix up that little
dinner party? You have only to say the word!"

"I am very much obliged to you, but I think not," answered Wingrave.
"I will dine with you alone some evening, with pleasure! Not just as
present!"

Rocke looked, as he felt, puzzled. He honestly wished to be of service
to this man, but he was at a loss to know what further suggestion he
could make. There was something impenetrable about his client,
something which he could not arrive at, behind the hard, grim face and
measured words. He could not even guess as to what the man's hopes or
intentions were. Eventually, although with some reluctance, he took up
his hat.

"Well, Sir Wingrave," he said, "if there is really nothing I can do
for you, I will go. If you should change your mind, you have only to
telephone. You can command me at any time. I am only anxious to be of
service to you."

"You have already been of service to me," Wingrave answered quietly.
"You have spoken the truth! You have helped me to realize my position