Wenk wondered what the aim of such an establishment could be, for it was bound to be discovered and closed within a week’s time, and the outlay must have been considerable. Hull was much struck, having nothing with which to compare what he saw and heard there. “Ravishing! enchanting!” said Cara from time to time. “We live in ingenious times, don’t we? We must come here often, mustn’t we, Eddie? Which are you going to stake on? I am choosing the black Arab. Black for me, please Eddie, because you are so fair!” Karstens cast an amused glance at Wenk. A supper of the most varied and recherché dainties was provided. Things which seemed to have vanished in the depreciation of the German currency were seen--_pâté de foie gras_, fresh truffles, caviare, fieldfares.... In front of a pile of truffles and _foie gras_, inhaling its pleasant odour, Karstens said suddenly: “Our mark to-day stands at seven in Switzerland, but it is seven centimes, and here things which we have forgotten we ever ordered are provided for us.” “Here a mark is worth less than seven centimes,” said Wenk, downcast and depressed. Whither was it all tending? His heart yearned for help in his enterprise, and he had no appetite for dainties. Cara trilled a popular ditty, and Hull, in spite of the influence which she exercised over him, and his enjoyment of unwonted dainties, began secretly to be somewhat ashamed. He resolved to send her a parting present on the morrow, and it should be the parure of Australian opals she so ardently desired, which a Russian princess, anxious to get on the stage by Cara’s help, was willing to sell. “This should end it all,” said Hull to himself. He was disenchanted, and yet at the same time melancholy. What would become of her? For himself, he almost thought he would prefer the cloister to.... Just then he savoured a delicious mouthful of truffle, and as he smacked his lips over it, Hull thought, “Well, there’s something to be said for this sort of thing, after all. I should not get any more aspic ... and I’ve not broken with her yet, anyhow!...” Suddenly Wenk got up to go. “Where are you off to?” cried Cara, excited in a moment. Karstens turned to her at this instant, separating her from Wenk, who left the hall undisturbed. He took his overcoat quickly from the vestibule and was conducted downstairs. The concierge opened the door for him, looking first through the peep-hole into the street. Then he exclaimed in great excitement: “Sir, there is a policeman standing there!” He opened the door, however, and Wenk went out. The policeman saluted. Wenk saw the uniformed official smiling, and looking back, found the concierge smiling too. The “policeman” belonged to the “Go-ahead” Institute. If a real policeman were to enter the street, as the concierge hastily informed the departing guest, he would see that there was already someone on guard and move off.