it is possible for us to make use of your wife in this matter?"

"I don't think so," Venner said thoughtfully.

"In the first place, I don't much like the idea; and in the second, I
am entirely at a loss to know what mysterious hold Mark Fenwick has on
Vera. As I told you last night, she left me within a very short time of
our marriage, and until a few hours ago I had never looked upon her
again. Something terrible must have happened, or she would never have
deserted me in the way she did. I don't for a moment believe that Mark
Fenwick knew anything about our marriage, but on that point I cannot be
absolutely certain. You had better come back to me later in the day, and
I will see what I can do. It is just possible that good fortune may be
on my side."

The afternoon was dragging on, and still Venner was no nearer to a
practical scheme which would enable him to make an examination of
Fenwick's rooms without the chance of discovery. He was lounging in the
hall, smoking innumerable cigarettes, when Fenwick himself came down the
stairs. Obviously the man was going on a journey, for he was closely
muffled up in a big fur coat, and behind him came a servant, carrying two
bags and a railway rug. It was a little gloomy in the lobby, so Venner
was enabled to watch what was going on without being seen himself. He did
not fail to note a certain strained anxiety that rested on Fenwick's
face. The man looked behind him once or twice, as if half afraid of being
followed. Venner had seen that same furtive air in men who are wanted by
the police. Fenwick stopped at the office and handed a couple of keys to
the clerk. His instructions were quite audible to Venner.

"I shan't want those for a day or two," he said. "You will see that no