He owed it to himself to devote every energy he possessed to make
the most of this great tide of business. With set face he closed
the doors upon the unreal world, and took hold of the levers which
were to guide his passage through the one in which he was an actual
figure.

Her visit was not altogether unexpected, and yet, when they told him
that Mademoiselle Idiale was outside, he hesitated.

"It is the lady who was here the other day," his head clerk reminded
him. "We made a remarkably good choice of stocks for her. They
must be showing nearly sixteen hundred pounds profit. Perhaps she
wants to realize."

"In any case, you had better show her in," said Laverick.

She came, bringing with her, notwithstanding her black clothes and
heavy veil, the atmosphere of a strange world into his somewhat
severely furnished office. Her skirts swept his carpet with a
musical swirl. She carried with her a faint, indefinable perfume
of violets, - a perfume altogether peculiar, dedicated to her by a
famous chemist in the Rue Royale, and supplied to no other person
upon earth. Who else was there, indeed, who could have walked those
few yards as she walked?

He rose to his feet and pointed to a chair.

"You have come to ask about your shares?" he asked politely. "So
far, we have nothing but good news for you."