"I've got a lot of work to get through before I can seek my well-earned rest," said Bill gravely. "Your own particular jaunt may be over, but crime goes on for ever." "I," said the drowsy Teal, "have been working all day, and I'm very tired." In the sacred cause of Accuracy, one must put it on record that Storm lapsed lamentably from strictly good manners. He expressed no regret that they could not stay longer, nor did he beg them to remain. In fact, he bade them farewell in haste, as if he were afraid that they might change their minds. Only when they were irrevocably hatted and gloved did he become aware of his duties as a host. "Not even a quick one before you go?" he suggested half-heartedly. Mr. Teal shook his head, shifting his gum to the other side of his mouth. "It's bad for the heart," he said. "Fat men didn't ought to drink...." Storm closed the door and came back into the sitting-room. He sat on the table, swinging his legs and singing a little tune. Deliberately he crushed out the stump of his cigarette in the ash tray. Susan got up. "I suppose I ought to be going, too," she said. But she did not go. THE END