She pushed open the wardrobe door. A little breath of fresher air was grateful to both of them. Then she turned and pointed towards the opposite wall. 'It was that print,' she murmured. 'It must have been a signal to him that he was being watched. You see, it is on one side. I am perfectly certain that when I was here this morning it was straight.' 'A signal from whom?' She had no time to answer him. They could hear the door of the next room open. Their eyes met. 'Mr. Somers-Keyne!' he exclaimed. They stepped back into the wardrobe. Her fingers felt for the spring. Suddenly they both heard, within a few inches of them, on the other side of the wall, the sound of a click. She pressed the spring in vain. Then she stepped back and turned on the electric light in the room. 'Try the door,' she whispered. Lavendale tried it. As they both expected, it was locked. She drew a master-key from her pocket and opened it swiftly. They were out in the corridor now, empty and silent. They could not even hear the sound of any one moving about in Mr. Somers-Keyne's room. Lavendale stood before the latter's door and listened. There was a mumbling as though of smothered voices, then suddenly an angry exclamation. 'Sick of the lot of you, that's what I am! Here's the old man dictates his rubbish for about an hour a day and talks drivelling, drunken piffle for the rest of it! Where's my salary coming from, that's what I want to know?' They heard Jules apparently trying to soothe her. 'My dear Miss Brown, in a few days, if you will only be patient----' 'Patient! Who's going to be patient with that old drunkard blithering around all the time? I've had enough!' They heard the sound of stamping footsteps and Mr. Somers-Keyne's sonorous voice. 'Flora, my dear, mosht unreasonable, I'm sure. Shimply asked you go out for a few minutes while Mr. Jules and I dishcuss important matter.' 'And I'm going out for a minute,' Miss Brown shouted, suddenly opening the door, 'and you may thank your stars when you see me again!' She appeared upon the threshold, holding a slatternly hat upon her head with one hand and sticking hatpins in with the other. She stared insolently at Lavendale and his companion, and brushed her way past them. 'Here's visitors for you,' she called out over her shoulder. 'You'll have to get rid of them now before you start on your precious business.' She flopped down the stairs. The newcomers stepped across the threshold. Jules stared at them in surprise. Mr. Somers-Keyne nodded his head ponderously. His mind seemed to be still running upon Miss Brown's departure. 'A mosht ungrateful young woman,' he declared. 'Mish--er--de Freyne, your shervant. Thish gentleman is the tenant of the roomsh you looked over other day. Mr. Lavendale, don't like you. Don't want you here. Ashked me questions about you, Mish de Freyne. Not a nice young man at all. You lishen to me a moment.'