"What have you been doing? We have not seen you for a very long time. You have other engagements? You must be careful. I fear for you sometimes," she patted his arm. "You will come tonight? You must dress, of course. I do not receive men who are not in evening dress. Grand habit, you understand? The war made men very careless. The smoking jacket--tuxedo--what do you call it? and the black tie. That is no longer good style. If you are to meet ladies, you must wear a white bow and the white waistcoat with the long coat. I insist upon this. I am right, is it not so? All the men wear grand habit nowadays. What do you wish, Ronnie?" "Nothing in particular; I thought I would come along. I am feeling rather sick of life today." She nodded. "So you come to see my little friends. That is nice and they will be glad. All of them except Lola; she is going out to dinner tonight with a very great friend. You know your way: they are playing baccarat in the little salon. It amuses them and they only play for pennies." Ronnie strolled off to seek entertainment in the little salon. He was rung up at his flat that evening four times. At midnight Steppe called him up again. "M'sieur, he has not returned. No, M'sieur, not even to dress." Madame Ritti, for all the rigidity of her dress regulations, made exceptions seemingly. Ronald was sleeping soundly when Steppe strolled into his room and let up the blind with a crash. "Hullo?" Ronnie struggled up. "What time is it?" "Where were you last night?" Steppe's voice was harsh, contumelious. "I spent the night ringing you up. Have the police been here?" "Police, no. Why should they?" "Why should they!" mimicked the visitor, "because Sault stopped his car before the entrance of these flats. Luckily, they are not sure whether he went in or not. The detective who saw the car did not notice where Sault had come from. They asked me if there was anybody in Knightsbridge he would be likely to visit, and I said 'no', d'ye hear? No! I can't have you in their hands, Morelle. A cur like you would squeal and they would find out why he came. _And I don't want to know_." The dark eyes bent on Ronnie were glittering. "You hear? I don't want to know. Moropulos is dead. In a week or two Sault will be dead and Beryl will be married. Why in hell do you jump?" Ronnie affected a yawn and reached out for his dressing gown. "Of course I jumped," he was bold to say, even if he quaked inwardly. "You come thundering into my room when I'm half asleep and talk about police and Moropulos. Ugh! I haven't your nerve. If you want to know, Sault came here to ask me where you were. I thought he was a little mad and told him you were out of town." "You're a liar--a feeble liar! Get up!" He stalked out of the room slamming the door behind him, and when Ronnie joined him, he was standing before the mantelpiece scowling at the Anthony.