adventure--the woman who had got, as by magic, a hold over his thoughts,
so that he dreamed of her and wondered about her, sleeping and waking.

Dark-eyed Countess Margaret, all clad in pure white, the smallest of
lace fichus just dropped over her heavy hair, moved smoothly up the
steps and into the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Barker, I am so glad you have come," said she,
graciously extending her hand in the cordial Transatlantic fashion.

"Permit me to present my friend, Professor Claudius," said Barker.
Claudius bowed very low. The plunge was over, and he recovered his
outward calm, whatever he might feel.

"Mr. Barker flatters me, Madam," he said quietly. "I am not a professor,
but only a private lecturer."

"I am too far removed from anything learned to make such distinctions,"
said the Countess. "But since good fortune has brought you into the
circle of my ignorance, let me renew my thanks for the service you did
me in Heidelberg the other day."

Claudius bowed and murmured something inaudible.

"Or had you not realised that I was the heroine of the parasol at the
broken tower?" asked Margaret smiling, as she seated herself in a low
chair and motioned to her guests to follow her example. Barker selected
a comfortable seat, and arranged the cushion to suit him before he
subsided into repose, but the Doctor laid hands on a stern and
solid-looking piece of carving, and sat upright facing the Countess.