Soon after midday, two mornings later, Mr. Stephen Cresswell entered the smoking-room at the Milan. He was carrying a _Daily Telegraph_ under his arm, he wore a bunch of violets in his buttonhole, and he was dressed with great care. He approached the table where Harvey Grimm and Aaron Rodd were awaiting him. "You, too, have seen the answer to our advertisement?" he exclaimed. "Capital!" "We were just now discussing it," Harvey Grimm assented. The poet sat down, made signs to the waiter, hitched up his trousers and made himself thoroughly comfortable. "I have decided," he announced, "that I am the proper person to entertain the young lady." Harvey Grimm nodded thoughtfully. "Tell us through what channel of thought, my young friend, you have arrived at that conclusion?" he begged. The poet straightened his tie. There was no doubt that he was a remarkably good-looking young man. "I am a modest person," he said, "but it is useless to deny that nature has been kind to me. Then, too, there is a peculiar and romantic importance attached to the successful poet whose reputation has been enhanced in so singular a fashion. The young lady will be interested in me from the start. She will be proud to remember that we are old acquaintances, and she will treat me with greater confidence than any ordinary person." Harvey Grimm lit a cigarette deliberately. Aaron Rodd's heavy eyebrows seemed to have contracted a little. "Why are you so sure that it will be the young lady who will keep the appointment?" the former enquired. Stephen Cresswell placed his forefinger upon the advertisement in the paper which he had been carrying:-- _Milan Café, luncheon,_ 1.15 _Wednesday. Will discuss. Bond Street._ "That tells us nothing," Harvey Grimm pointed out. "So far as the probabilities are concerned, I should say that it is extremely unlikely that either the young lady or any of those associated with her will keep the appointment. Any negotiations we may have will probably be conducted through a third party." The poet's face fell. He ordered another cocktail brusquely. "How shall we know whom to look out for, then?" he demanded. "The onus of recognition will rest with the others," Harvey Grimm replied. "I have engaged a table just inside the door. We shall take our places there before one-fifteen and await the arrival of whoever may come." "In case it should be the young lady," the poet persisted, "you would find that my previous acquaintance with her would be of immense service to us. She would place confidence in me." "You shall be of the party," Harvey Grimm promised. "I have ordered the table for five, so as to be on the safe side. I do not understand our friends selecting a place for a meeting, but, on the other hand, there is a flavour of genius in such apparent recklessness. If you are ready, I think it is time that we made a start."