"Yes--blinding. She didn't know anything when she had that kind.
And her room was at the back of the flat."

Denver again meditated. "And when you got back--she didn't hear
you? You got in without her knowing it?"

"Yes. I went straight to my work--took it up at the word where
I'd left off--WHY, DENVER, DON'T YOU REMEMBER?" Granice suddenly,
passionately interjected.

"Remember--?"

"Yes; how you found me--when you looked in that morning, between
two and three . . . your usual hour . . .?"

"Yes," the editor nodded.

Granice gave a short laugh. "In my old coat--with my pipe:
looked as if I'd been working all night, didn't I? Well, I
hadn't been in my chair ten minutes!"

Denver uncrossed his legs and then crossed them again. "I didn't
know whether YOU remembered that."

"What?"

"My coming in that particular night--or morning."

Granice swung round in his chair. "Why, man alive! That's why
I'm here now. Because it was you who spoke for me at the