This theory--I might almost term it a positive knowledge so thoroughly did it hold me--explained nearly every feature of the strange events of the preceding twenty-four hours. It fitted in with and amplified my views on the happenings of earlier years, and it gave me the first satisfactory clue to the emotions exhibited by two such contradictory personalities as Nora Cazenove and Maggie Hutchinson. I am sure the valet was glad to see the back of me. I jammed my right foot into the left boot, tried to put on my waistcoat inside out, and fumbled with my tie until he volunteered to arrange it, being prepared (I could see it in his eye) to fight for his life if I grappled with him. At last, I raced to the elevator. I wanted to telephone to the Griers’ house and ask Karl to come at once. But he saved me that period of suspense. He was standing in the atrium, smoking a cigarette. He strolled towards me, and not even my tensely nervous condition--all the more soul-devouring in that I was forced to appear outwardly calm--prevented me from seeing the discreet admiration he won from such ladies as were seated there. “Ah! there you are!” he cried in his frankly pleasant way. “The papers report another fiasco in the yacht race. Is there ever any wind in New York Bay?” “Heaps,” I said, “or so many hoodlums would not have blown into the States.” We were near enough to shake hands. “How is Nora?” he asked. “Just about the same as Maggie.” He winced. In the absorption of my new discovery I had forgotten that any flippant allusion to the woman for whose sake he was ready to lay down his life must be painful. Yet, with a single keen glance into my face, he read my true feelings, which, goodness knows, were far removed from the pert words of my lips. “Forgive me,” I said. “I am unnerved by reaching what you described last night as the ‘right track!’” “It must be disturbing.” “If my conclusions are justified,” I went on, surveying him with as much coolness as I was capable of, “you ought not to have that appearance of abounding vitality which you undoubtedly possess.” “That is because the weather is clear,” he answered lightly. “If it were cloudy, I should be a mere wreck. When the sun shines, or the stars are visible, I have five times the potentiality of a dull day. But you must eat, man alive. Why are we discoursing here? Shall I telephone Jules?” “No. Wait a few minutes. Hooper is coming.” “Hooper? Frank E. of that ilk?” “Yes. Luckily, I located him in Paris and wired him. He is due here any moment.” “Well, I shall be delighted to meet him. But I cannot allow my affairs to travel outside a very small circle.” “And I cannot allow you to wither away on my own responsibility.”