I drew it from its frame and gazed for a long time upon it. Then I put it into an envelope, and placed it in my pocket. Soon after ten o'clock I returned to the Coliseum, and showed the portrait to a number of the attendants as that of a lady who was missing. All of them, both male and female, gazed upon the picture, but nobody recognized her as having been seen before. The manager, whom I had seen on the previous night, sympathized with me, and lent me every assistance. One after another of the staff he called into his big office on the first floor, but the reply was always the same. At length a smart page-boy entered, and, on being shown the portrait, at once said to the manager-- "Why, sir, that's the lady who went away with the gentleman who spoke to me!" "Who was he?" I demanded eagerly. "What did he say? What was he like?" "Well, sir, it was like this," replied the boy. "About a quarter of an hour before the curtain fell last night I was out in the vestibule, when a tall dark gentleman, with his hair slightly grey and no moustache, came up to me with a lady's cloak in his hand--a dark blue one. He told me that when the audience came out a fair young lady would come up to me for the cloak, as she wanted to get away very quickly, and did not want to wait her turn at the cloak-room. There was a car--a big grey car--waiting for her outside." "Then her flight was all prepared!" I exclaimed. "What was the man like?" "He struck me as being a gentleman, yet his clothes seemed shabby and ill-fitting. Indeed, he had a shabby-genteel look, as though he were a bit down on his luck." "He was in evening clothes?" "No, sir. In a suit of brown tweeds." "Well, what happened then?" "I waited till the curtain fell, and then I stood close to the box-office with the cloak over my arm. There was a big crush, as it was then raining hard. Suddenly a young lady wearing a cream theatre-wrap came up to me hastily, and asked me to help her on with the cloak. This I did, and next moment the man in tweeds joined her. I heard him say, 'Come along, dear, we haven't a moment to lose,' and then they went out to the car. That's all I know, sir." I was silent for a few moments. Who was this secret lover, I wondered? The lad's statement had come as an amazing revelation to me. "What kind of car was it?" I asked. "A hired car, sir," replied the intelligent boy. "I've seen it here before. It comes, I think, from a garage in Wardour Street." "You would know the driver?" "I think so, sir." It was therefore instantly arranged that the lad should go with me round to the garage, and there try to find the man who drove the grey car on the previous night.