In those days London had not started to shroud its lamps. One stood a few paces short of the porch of Number 105; and as I turned into Brook Street I saw a man come hastily down the steps, and enter a taxi anchored there. The butler followed and closed the door upon him. The night had begun to drizzle, and there was a sough of sou'westerly wind in the air. I turned up the collar of my service overcoat and, as the taxi passed, walked pretty briskly forward and intercepted Mrs. Denistoun's butler, who, after a stare at the retreating vehicle, had reascended the steps and was about to close the door. Recognising me by the light of the porch lamp, he opened the door wide, and full upon the figure of Constantia, standing in the hallway. She gave a little gasp and came to me, holding out her hand. "You were always as good as your word, Roddy. Come into the library. Where are you sleeping, by the way?" "In my flat," said I. "Jephson will not be called up for a day or two. He has a fire lit, and will sit up for me." "He may have to sit up late," replied Constantia. "Mamma will be down presently. . . . There has been something of a scene, and she is upset. You saw Mr. Farrell go away, just now? You must have passed him, almost at the door." "I did," said I, "though I don't know if he recognised me. Child, what is the matter?" "Child?" echoed Constantia. "It does me good to be called that, for that's exactly how I am feeling. . . . He had no right--no right--" and there she broke off. "Do you mean," said I, "that he put that announcement in the _Times_ having no _right_ to do it?" "I dare say," moaned Constantia, waving her arms feebly, pathetically, "he understood more than I meant him to." "Let us be practical, please," said I, becoming extremely stern. "Have you, or have you not, engaged yourself to marry Farrell?" "Certainly I have not," she answered with vivacity. "He asked me, and I--well, I played for time." I couldn't repress a small groan at this: or, rather, it was half a groan and half a sigh of relief. "Has he spoken to your mother?" "No." "Does your mother know about it?" "Yes. I told her." "Does she approve of this announcement in the papers? Has she sanctioned it?" "Of course she does not--of course she has not. . . . Roddy, sit down and don't ask so many questions all of a heap. Sit down and light your pipe, and pass me a cigarette. Furnilove will bring in some whisky for you by and by." "Thank you, Constantia; but I don't feel like staying. I've always maintained--oh, damnation!" I broke off. "What have you always maintained, Roddy? Sit down and tell it. Are you not here because I sent for you? And didn't I send for you because I am in trouble? We are in a tangle, I tell you, and I'm asking you, on my knees, to untwist it. So light your pipe and, before we begin, tell me--What is it you have always maintained?"