He was quite satisfied, and prepared to await developments as long as necessary. The appointments of the room pleased him extremely. He had hardly expected such taste, remembering the Norwood villa; but that, he reflected, had not represented Miss Halifax’s independent views. Here all was simple and harmonious, straight lines and flat tones, with rich sombre gleams of brass and pottery for their sole emphasis. The only photograph (blest deficiency) that was visible, stood on a Sheraton bureau in a dusky corner by the window. Venturing to inspect it, Gilead discovered to his concern that it was one of Herbert Nestle. He shrank away, as if he had unwittingly surprised a secret. An odd pang shot through his breast. He turned and stood for a long while staring at nothing out of the window. And then he came about, with a grave smile, and a resolve in his heart. “Why should I wonder,” he thought. “And still more, why should I grudge it? It would be, after all, an ideal union of interests. And there is no reason why it should separate us. On the contrary, it might very well cement our partnership. I will certainly use my best unobtrusive efforts to promote the match.” When Miss Halifax returned to him, which she did only after a pretty long interval, he received her with a manner of courteous distinction, which, as eschewing all claim to familiarity, evidently surprised and disturbed her. She looked about her for a reason; and, being astonishingly quick-witted, instantly divined the right one. She bit her lip, and went a trifle pale; but immediately controlled herself and proceeded to the matter in hand. “I have heard the whole story,” she said. “It has made my blood boil, Mr Balm. The poor little thing! Heaven certainly sent her her protecting angel to retort upon a villain.” “No,” said Gilead, perfectly unconsciously, “the retort is my business. Tell me as much of the story as is necessary to my taking action in the matter.” “There is nothing to conceal,” answered Miss Halifax, “save--” she flushed a little--“one’s natural disgust in handling a reptile. His victim--or his intended victim, thank goodness--has been candid to me with the candour of a child. I have completely won her confidence and trust. She is asleep now, quite worn out. I shall keep her with me, Mr Balm, until you have decided upon the course you will pursue with her.” Gilead bowed, with his eyes kindling. “Of course,” he said; “I knew. If I ever found myself mistaken in you, Miss Halifax, I think I should close the Agency, and abjure my whole faith in human nature.” She looked down, wreathing her fingers in her lap. For some moments she seemed unable to proceed.