I was relieved to hear it and told him so. "I presume," I said, "that Mademoiselle Blanche, of Bond Street, is identical with the young lady who talked to us at Stephano's the other night?" "Say, you're becoming perfectly wonderful at the art of deduction!" my future father-in-law declared. "Same person!" "She seems quite attractive," I admitted, "with a taste for pink roses, I think." Mr. Bundercombe appeared to regard my remark as frivolous. He moved his chair, however, and brought it closer to mine. "I dare say you remember," he went on, "how the young lady proposed to me that night that I should finance a little venture in which she and her sleepy-eyed friend opposite were interested." I nodded. "Yes, I remember that." "From that," Mr. Bundercombe continued, "she went on to suggest that I should help her in the ambition of her life, which, it seems, was to take a single room for manicuring a few clients. In an ordinary way I should have refused that, too; and, if she had been hard up, begged to be allowed to oblige her with a trifling loan--and ended the matter in that way. The reason I didn't was simply because I felt convinced that her desire to require a single room in the manicure business was somehow associated with the scheme she had at first suggested. Therefore I temporized. I appeared to be interested. I asked her in what locality she wished to commence business. She never hesitated. There was only one place she wanted and that was the room she's got. Just to test her I took her to see really slap-up premises in another part of Bond Street. She pretended to look at them, but never took the slightest interest. It was just one room she wanted--and one room only. "I realized that both she and her friend were either too desperately hard up to engage that room or else they were particularly anxious to do it in some one else's name. That was quite enough for me. I engaged the room." I glanced once more at Mr. Bundercombe's nails. "You, at any rate," I remarked, "have been a faithful customer." "Paul," Mr. Bundercombe continued, "I am playing a part. I am playing the part of a silly old fool. It isn't easy sometimes, but I am keeping it up. I spend a good part of my time in that beastly little parlor, having my nails done over and over again. The girl is bored to death; and I--though I flatter myself I don't show it--I guess I'm bored to death too. I've kept it up all right until now and the job comes off to-morrow. Miss Blanche is convinced that my interest in her is sentimental and she has occasionally not been quite so careful as she might have been. I have picked up here and there certain small details that enable me to form a very fair idea as to the nature of this venture in which I was invited to participate. The last few days I have been hesitating whether I should take you into my confidence or not. As it happens you have forced it. Have you anything particular to do to-morrow?"