She hurriedly laid her hand on my arm. "I don't understand," she said pitifully. "It's all so different from what I expected, but oh! please--please--" There was a rumble of wheels, and a dejected-looking hansom came slowly trundling past. I signalled to the driver, who at once pulled up. "Well, here we are," I said cheerfully; "so that settles the matter." With a little gasp of relief she dropped my arm, and glanced nervously up and down the roadway. I stepped forward and stood by the wheel so as to protect her dress. She got in, thanking me in an almost inaudible whisper. "Good-night," I said, holding out my hand. "I'll leave you to tell the driver where you want to go." There was an instant's pause, and then with a hurried gesture she bent forward and laid her hand in mine. "Good-night," she said softly. I felt the faint pressure of her fingers--the same slender fingers that had so nearly cut short my promising career, and a curious thrill of satisfaction ran suddenly through my heart. Releasing her hand, I stepped back on to the pavement. I saw the driver raise the flap and bend down to catch her directions. Then he wheeled his horse round, and the cab jogged away steadily in the direction of Oxford Street. "And here," I said to myself, "endeth the first lesson." As the words rose in my mind, something caught my attention on the farther side of the road. There was a clump of trees exactly opposite, just inside the railings of the Park, and in the thick shadow beneath them I could have sworn that I had detected a movement. My nerves must have been pretty badly on edge, for I as nearly as possible jumped for the area. Fortunately, I pulled myself together just in time. Taking out a cigarette, I lit it with some deliberation, and then in a leisurely and dignified fashion mounted the steps, latchkey in hand, and let myself into the house. All the time I had a horrible presentiment that at the next second a bullet would crash into the small of my back; but like most presentiments it failed to materialise. Still, it was with a feeling of considerable relief that I closed the door and shot home the bolts at the top and bottom. When I reached my study, the first thing I did was to mix myself a pretty stiff brandy-and-soda. I wanted it badly. "If I keep this job going for three weeks," I reflected, "I shall probably end up as a confirmed dipsomaniac." By the time I had got well into a cigarette, however, my natural good spirits had begun to reassert themselves. After all, I was still alive, and, apparently, so far quite unsuspected, which was about as favourable a situation as I had any right to expect.