“The result has shocked me severely,” Annesley said, after a long silence, “though I am greatly relieved to find that we have been chased by a mere shadow. I scarcely know how to break the disgraceful news to Lady Annesley, and must insist upon Miss Nugent making some sort of a confession to completely satisfy my wife, whose health her insane folly has viciously undermined. Mr. Asbury, I must turn the thing over in my mind for a little while before giving you my final instructions. I am bitterly annoyed and ashamed.” “I can understand that, Sir Harold,” the detective said, rising. “One minute, please,” Annesley said. “I am so well satisfied with your abilities, Mr. Asbury, that I shall esteem it a favor if you will undertake another little case in which I am interested.” “I shall be pleased, Sir Harold, but if you will excuse me for an hour I shall be glad. I am expecting a cable from New York which must be answered promptly.” Sir Harold glanced at his watch. It was exactly eight o’clock. “If you like, Mr. Asbury, I will walk with you,” he said. “I have exactly an hour to spare, and I want to think how best to approach my wife with this shameful story.” “I am at your service, Sir Harold,” was the respectful rejoinder. The baronet rang for Stimson. “I am going out for an hour or two, Stimson. You will tell her ladyship if she inquires for me.” Now, it happened that Theresa had dressed, and was standing at the head of the main staircase when Annesley and the detective went out. “Bad news,” she thought, “or my husband would come to me at once.” Then Stimson informed her that his master would not be back for an hour, and she retired to her sitting-room. In the meantime, Sir Harold and Paul Asbury walked to Scotland Yard. The detective’s business with one of his subordinates occupied but a few minutes, and he left the office, looking well pleased. “Sir Harold,” he said, “one more question, please. When did Miss Nugent leave you to return to Ashbourne?” “Oh, some time before my illness--ten or twelve days since.” “I have just received information that she left the Victoria Hotel, and proceeded to the house of a lady friend in Bayswater, where she is still staying. Now, the sooner this silly business is exploded the better, or she may be tempted to perpetrate some new joke. I can now do nothing more unless I receive instructions from you.” “Can you furnish me with Miss Nugent’s present address?” demanded Annesley, savagely. The detective promptly scribbled a few words on the back of one of his cards, and gave it to the baronet. This is the address he wrote down: MRS. NORTON, The Laurels, Bayswater. “Mrs. Norton is a lady of fashion,” the detective remarked, “and her place is well known. If you do not object, Sir Harold, I prefer to discuss the remaining business in the Café Royal. It is close here, and I have a private room upstairs. We never know who is spying about.”