CHAPTER I

A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR


The man and the woman stood facing one another, although in the uncertain
firelight which alone illuminated the room neither could see much save
the outline of the other's form. The woman stood at the further end of
the apartment by the side of the desk--his desk. The slim trembling
fingers of one hand rested lightly upon it, the other was hanging by her
side, nervously crumpling up the glove which she had only taken off a few
minutes before. The man stood with his back to the door through which he
had just entered. He was in evening dress; he carried an overcoat over
his arm, and his hat was slightly on the back of his head. A cigarette
was still burning between his lips, the key by means of which he had
entered was swinging from his little finger. So far no words had passed
between them. Both were apparently stupefied for the moment by the
other's unexpected presence.

It was the man who recovered his self-possession first. He threw his
overcoat into a chair, and touched the brass knobs behind the door.
Instantly the room was flooded with the soft radiance of the electric
lights. They could see one another now distinctly. The woman leaned a
little forward, and there was amazement as well as fear flashing in her
soft, dark eyes. Her voice, when she spoke, sounded to herself unnatural.
To him it came as a surprise, for the world of men and women was his
study, and he recognized at once its quality.

"Who are you?" she exclaimed. "What do you want?"