A black oak table stood in the center of the room and a deep Medici writing chair was placed opposite the black blotting-pad. It pleased Ronnie to imitate those ministers of state who employed this color to thwart curious-minded servants who, with the aid of a mirror, might discover the gist of outward correspondence. It was nearing midnight when the sound of Ronnie's key in the lock sent his sleepy servant into the lobby. Ronnie stood in the hall tenderly stripping his gloves. "Has anybody been?" "No, m'sieur." "Letters?" "Only one, m'sieur. An account." He opened the library door and Ronnie walked in. He switched on the light of his desk lamp and sat down. "I have not been out all the evening, François." "No, m'sieur." "I came home after dinner and I have not left this room, do you understand?" "Perfectly, m'sieur." "Have we any iodine--look for it, damn you, don't gape!" François hurried out to inspect the contents of the bathroom locker, where were stored such first aid remedies as were kept in the flat. Ronnie looked at his hand and pulled back the cuff of his coat; three ugly red scratches ran from the wrist to the base of the middle fingers. His lips pursed angrily. "Little beast," he said. "Well?" "There is a bottle--would m'sieur like a bandage?" "It is not necessary--have you a cat in the flat?--no, well get one tomorrow. You need not keep it permanently. I don't think there will be any trouble. Bring me a hand-mirror from my dressing-table--hurry." He lifted the shade from the table lamp and, in the mirror, examined his face carefully. His right cheek was red, he imagined finger-marks, but the fine skin had not been torn. "I have had a quarrel with a lady, François. A common girl--I do not think she will make any further trouble, but if she does--she does not know me anyway." Ronald's love-making had ended unpleasantly, and he had left the dark aisles of the park in a hurry, before the scream of a frightened girl had brought the police to the spot. "I was expecting m'sieur to telephone me saying that I might go home," said François. He lodged in Kensington, and sometimes it was convenient for Ronnie, that he should go home early. Two women came in the morning to clean the flat and he usually arrived in time to carry in his master's breakfast from the restaurant attached to the building. "No, I didn't telephone. Take this glass back and bring me the evening newspapers. That is all. You can clear out."