Then, going over to the full-length mirror, he carefully lit a cigar in front of it, set it going, and stretched himself out in a long fauteuil with his back to the French window. He was soon deep in thought. Suddenly his reverie was interrupted by the sound of the door-bell ringing. “Hullo, Preston!” he exclaimed, as a moment later the footman announced the captain, who came limping into the room. “This is a pleasant surprise. Come and sit over here,” and he rolled an armchair towards him. “Thanks,” his visitor answered. “I hope I am not intruding?” He let himself slowly down into the big chair, then laid his stick beside it on the carpet. “I wanted to see you rather particularly, La Planta,” he said, when they had exchanged one or two commonplace remarks. “So I looked up your address in the ‘Red Book’ and came along. I tried to get you on the telephone, but the operator declared she could get no reply.” “She always does,” the young man answered dryly. “I have been seated beside the telephone at least half an hour and the bell has not even tinkled.” “So much the better, perhaps, as I have found you in. Now, what I want to see you about is Mrs. Mervyn-Robertson.” “Yes? I was at her house less than an hour ago.” “Do you mind if I ask if you know much about her--who she is, where she comes from, and all that sort of thing? Please don’t think me inquisitive. You may think it cool of me to ask you this, but I have a reason for wanting to know.” “Naturally, or you wouldn’t ask,” La Planta replied quickly. “I believe she is a friend of yours.” “I believe she is. Do you mind telling me, Preston, the reason you need the information?” “Not in the least. A friend of mine, Lord Froissart, whose daughter died suddenly over a year ago, tells me that his daughter was rather intimate with Mrs. Mervyn-Robertson, but knew nothing about her--that is to say, who her parents were and so on. His daughter’s death has rather preyed upon his mind, and he seems to suffer under what I take to be a delusion that Mrs. Mervyn-Robertson could throw some light on the cause of death if she chose. Consequently he has been worrying a good deal about the lady, and, when I dined with him last night, he asked me as a particular favor--I am an old friend of his--if I would try to interview you on the subject, and ask you to tell me Mrs. Mervyn-Robertson’s past history, if you know it. I said I would, though it is not a task I greatly relish as I am sure you will understand.” La Planta did not answer for some moments.