have something to say to Miss Fitzmaurice," he added simply, turning to
the Baroness.

"By all means," she answered graciously, "if you don't mind rather an
uncomfortable seat. We are staying in Battersea. It seems a long way out,
but it is quiet, and Louise and I like it."

"In Battersea?" Wrayson repeated vaguely.

The Baroness looked over her shoulder. They were standing on the
pavement, waiting for their electric brougham.

"Yes!" she answered, dropping her voice a little, "in Frederic Mansions.
By the bye, we are neighbours, I believe, are we not?"

"Quite close ones," Wrayson answered. "I live in the next block of
flats."

The Baroness looked again over her shoulder.

"Your friend, Mr. Heneage, is close behind," she whispered, "and we are
living so quietly, Louise and I, that we do not care for callers. Tell
the man 'home' simply."

Wrayson obeyed, and the carriage glided off. Heneage had been within a
few feet of them when they had started, and although his attention
appeared to be elsewhere, the Baroness' caution was obviously justified.
She leaned back amongst the cushions with a little sigh of relief.

"Mr. Wrayson," she inquired, "may I ask if Mr. Heneage is a particular