My next move was to disinter Kosinski, whom I felt pretty certain of finding at a certain coffee-stall where, at that advanced hour, he was in the habit of making his one and only diurnal, or rather nocturnal repast. This coffee-stall was situated at the corner of Tottenham Court Road and a side street, and there, sure enough, stood Kosinski, munching sardines on toast, and buns, and drinking coffee, surrounded by a motley group of cabmen and loose women. These had evidently grown used to his regular attendance and treated him with marked respect and friendliness, many of the unfortunate women having often had to thank him for a meal and the price of a night's lodging when luck had failed them in other directions. Kosinski was somewhat taken aback at my sudden appearance. "You, Isabel!" he exclaimed in some confusion, "what can have brought you here? But may I offer you a little supper? These buns are excellent!" Tired and worried as I was, I could not help smiling at the awkward manner in which he made this offer. "No, thank you," I answered, "I am not hungry. I have come to fetch you in connection with a rather important matter. Can you come with me when you have finished your supper?" "Yes, certainly," answered Kosinski, "if there is anything I can do. Just let me finish these few mouthfuls and I will follow you. In the meantime will you explain what is the matter?" Without further ado I explained to him the whole Giannoli affair as I understood it. It was a relief to me to do so, and I was anxious to hear his opinion. He was silent for some minutes after I had finished speaking, and munched reflectively the last relics of his supper. "I am afraid," he said at last, "that Giannoli is not quite well--not quite well, mentally, I mean," he added after a slight pause. "At the same time, it is quite possible that there is some truth in what he suspects. Spies have always been abundant in our party and Giannoli is a very likely victim. He has been imprudent in the past, too believing and too foolhardy. I do not know very much about the men whom he primarily suspects, but Gnecco certainly I believe to be above suspicion. In any case it will be safer for him to leave.... I am ready now.... What can I do? Where are you going?" "Home, and to bed," I answered. "I have been on my feet all day and I am very tired. Moreover, there is nothing that I can do till to-morrow." I then explained to him what he was to do, where we were to meet on the following morning, and where he could find Giannoli that night. He acquiesced and we parted.