“A very fantastic theory, if you will allow me to say so,” said Lord Claythorpe, “and not at all like the sensible, commonsense point of view that I should have expected from Scotland Yard.” “That may be so,” said Peter quietly. “But we get romantic theories even at Scotland Yard.” He looked down at the bond, still spread out on the table. “I suppose your lordship will put this in the bank after your unhappy experience?” he said. “Yes, yes,” said Lord Claythorpe briefly, and Peter turned to the girl. “I congratulate you upon recovering a part of your property,” he said. “I understand this is held in trust for you until you’re married.” Lord Claythorpe started violently. “Until you’re married!” he said. “Why, why!” He caught the girl’s smiling eyes. “That means now, doesn’t it?” he said. “Until your marriage is approved by me,” said Lord Claythorpe. “I think it is approved by you,” said Joyce, and dived her hand into her bag. “It will be delivered to you formally to-morrow,” said his lordship stiffly. Peter Dawes and the girl went out of the house together and walked in silence a little way. “I’d give a lot to know what you’re thinking,” said the girl. “And I’d give a lot to know what you know,” smiled Peter, and at that cryptic exchange they parted. That night Mr. Lewinstein was giving a big dinner party at the Ritz Carlton. Joyce had been invited months before, but had no thought of accepting the invitation until she returned to the hotel where she was staying. A good-looking man rose as she entered the vestibule, and came towards her with a smile. He took her arm, and slowly they paced the long corridor leading to the elevator. “So that’s Mr. Jamieson Steele, eh?” said Peter Dawes, who had followed her to the hotel, and he looked very thoughtfully in the direction the two had taken. He went from the hotel and called on Mr. Lewinstein by appointment, and that great financier welcomed him with a large cigar. “I heard you were engaged upon the Four Square Jane case, Mr. Dawes,” he said, “and I thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea if I invited you to dinner to-night.” “Is this a professional or a friendly engagement?” smiled Peter. “It’s both,” said Mr. Lewinstein frankly. “The fact is, Mr. Dawes, and I’m not going to make any bones about the truth, it is necessary in my business that I should keep in touch with the best people in London. From time to time I give a dinner-party, and I bring together all that is bright and beautiful and brainy. Usually these dinners are given in my own house, but I’ve had a rather painful experience,” he said grimly, and Peter, who knew the history of Four Square Jane’s robbery, nodded in sympathy. “Now, I want to say a few words about Miss Four Square Jane,” said Lewinstein. “Do you mind seeing if the door is closed?” Peter looked outside, and closed the door carefully.