"No, perhaps; but, by Jove, it could be, though. If you hadn't been chucked into the world, I often think the devil must have had me altogether. You keep him off. How he must hate you, Val. Hulloh! What's that?" "What?" "Who's that laughing outside? Has Wade got a friend in to-night?" "Not that I know of. I didn't hear anything." Valentine touched the electric bell, and his man appeared. "Any one in with you to-night, Wade?" he asked. The man looked surprised. "No, sir; certainly not, sir." "Oh! Don't sit up; we may be late to-night. And we don't want anything more, except--yes, bring another couple of sodas." "Yes, sir." He brought them and vanished. A moment later they heard the front door of the flat close. The butler was married and slept out of the house. Valentine had no servant sleeping in the flat. He preferred to be alone at night. CHAPTER III EPISODE OF THE FIRST SITTING "Now, then," said Valentine, "let us be absurd and try this sitting. Shall we clear this little table?" "Yes. It's just the right size. It might do for three people, but certainly not for more." "There! Now, then." And, as the clock struck twelve, Valentine turned off the electric light, and they sat down with their hands upon the table. The room was only very dimly illuminated by the fire on the hearth, where Rip slept on, indifferent to their proceedings. "I suppose nothing could go wrong," Julian said, after a moment of silence. "Wrong!" "Yes. I don't know exactly what Marr meant, but he said that if unsuitable people sit together any amount of harm can result from it." "What sort of harm?" "I don't know." "H'm! I expect that is all nonsense, like the rest of his remarks. Anyhow, Julian, no two people could ever hit it off better than you and I do. Wait a second." He jumped up and drew the curtain over the door. Wade had pulled it back when he came in. "I must have that curtain altered," Valentine said. "It is so badly hung that whenever the door is opened, it falls half way back, and looks hideous. That is better." He sat down again. "We won't talk," he said. "No. We'll give the--whatever it is every chance." They were silent. Presently--it might have been a quarter of an hour--Julian said suddenly: "Do you feel anything?" "'M--no," Valentine answered, rather doubtfully. "Sure?" "I think so." "You can't merely think you are sure, old chap." "Well, then--yes, I'll say I am sure." "Right," rejoined Julian. Again there was a silence, broken this time by Valentine. "Why did you ask me?" he said. "Oh! no special reason. I just wanted to know." "Then you didn't?" "Didn't what?" "Feel anything?" "No; nothing particular." "Well, what do you mean by that?" "What I say. I can't be sure it was anything." "That's vague." "So was my--I can't even call it exactly sensation. It was so very slight. In fact, I'm as good as sure I felt nothing at all. It was a mere fancy. Nothing more."