"They are friends of yours, I take it. You're a regular happy family, aren't you? And a nice little lot you seem to be. You, at anyrate, will be separated from them for a time. Hold out your hands." He did not wait for her to hold out her hands, he held them out for her. In an instant handcuffs were girdling her dainty wrists. This did seem to be the most terrible catastrophe of all, that she, Edith Bankes, should be arrested at Christmas-time, as a common thief, and handcuffed! "You are making a horrible mistake, I am not the person you take me for." "I don't see how you can make that out, since I haven't said who I do take you for as yet. Of course you can cheek it out if you like, but don't you think it would seem too thin? Do you expect us to believe that only ladies of first-class character are to be found in a house like this--the foulest den in London?" "I assure you, officer, that it is only owing to the most extraordinary misapprehension." "Of course--not a doubt of it; it always is like that. Take my advice and keep a still tongue--anything you say 'll be used against you. Sorry to have to use the bracelets, we don't generally, with a lady, but, in a place like this, we take no chances. Jones, take her off, and let Wright go with you. I'm going over this place, and then I'll come straight on." "But I implore you to listen to me. I am Mrs Bankes--" "Very pleased to meet you, Mrs Bankes; hope to see you again a little later on. Now off you go; don't be silly. You don't want us to carry you, I suppose--it might spoil your pretty clothes!" He gave her what was meant as a good-natured push; but to her, unaccustomed to come into physical contact with policemen, it was as if the heavens were falling. A younger man took her by the arm. "Now then. Downstairs!" She went downstairs, the officer gripping her firmly. The house seemed full of men. In the street were half a dozen more. Her companion called one of them to her. Presently she found herself walking between two constables, each having hold of an arm, handcuffed, to the station house. And even then she was unable to adequately realise the situation. It did seem incredible that she, a woman of position, the wife of a man of reputation, could be hauled off to jail without even knowing with what crime she was charged. She made still another effort to induce her captors to hear reason. "I do assure you that you are making a dreadful mistake. I am Mrs Bankes--" Sergeant Jones interrupted her. "All right, you've said that before. We've been ordered to take you to the station, and if you're a duchess it makes no difference to us, we're going to take you. You can explain all about it when you're there."