"I am sure I am awfully grateful to you," Gurdon said. "Who are these
people, and why do they behave in this insane fashion? This is not
exactly the kind of menage one expects to find in one of the best
appointed mansions in the West End."

"I can tell you nothing about it," Vera said. There was a marked coldness
in her voice that told Gurdon he was going too far. "I can tell you
nothing. One thing you may rest assured of--I am in no kind of danger,
nor am I likely to be. My concern chiefly at the present moment is with
you. I want you to get back as soon as you can to the Great Empire Hotel,
and ease Gerald's mind as to myself."

"I hardly like to go, without you," Gurdon murmured.

"But you must," Vera protested. "Let me assure you once more that I am as
absolutely safe here as if I were in my own room. Now, come this way. I
dare not strike a light. I can only take you by the hand and lead you to
the top of the house. Every inch of the place is perfectly familiar to
me, and you are not likely to come to the least harm. Please don't waste
a moment more of your time."

Gurdon yielded against his better judgment. A moment or two later, he
found himself climbing through a skylight on to the flat leads at the
top of the house. By the light of the town he could now see what he
was doing, and pretty well where he was. From the leads he could look
down into the garden, though, as yet, he could not discern any avenue
of escape.

"The thing is quite easy," Vera explained. "The late occupant of the