His speech and his manner were decidedly irritating. I had made a firm resolve to keep my temper, no matter what the result of this interview might be, but I could not help answering rather sharply. “I had no intention of following you--here or anywhere else,” I said. “Your action and whereabouts, generally speaking, are of no particular interest to me. I did not follow you to Paris, Doctor Bayliss.” He reddened and hesitated. Then he led the way to a divan in a retired corner of the lobby and motioned to me to be seated. There he sat down beside me and waited for me to speak. I, in turn, waited for him to speak. At last he spoke. “I'm sorry, Knowles,” he said. “I am not myself today. I've had a devil of a night and I feel like a beast this morning. I should probably have insulted my own father, had he appeared suddenly, as you did. Of course I should have known you did not follow me to Paris. But--but why did you come?” I hesitated now. “I came,” I said, “to--to--Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I came because of something I heard concerning--concerning--” He interrupted me. “Then Heathcroft did tell you!” he exclaimed. “I thought as much.” “He told you, I know. He said he did.” “Yes. He did. My God, man, isn't it awful! Have you seen her?” His manner convinced me that he had seen her. In my eagerness I forgot to be careful. “No,” I answered, breathlessly; “I have not seen her. Where is she?” He turned and stared at me. “Don't you know where she is?” he asked, slowly. “I know nothing. I have been told that she--or someone very like her--is singing in a Paris church. Heathcroft told me that and then we were interrupted. I--What is the matter?” He was staring at me more oddly than ever. There was the strangest expression on his face. “In a church!” he repeated. “Heathcroft told you--” “He told me that he had seen a girl, whose resemblance to Miss Morley was so striking as to be marvelous, singing in a Paris church. He called it an abbey, but of course it couldn't be that. Do you know anything more definite? What did he tell you?” He did not answer. “In a church!” he said again. “You thought--Oh, good heavens!” He began to laugh. It was not a pleasant laugh to hear. Moreover, it angered me. “This may be very humorous,” I said, brusquely. “Perhaps it is--to you. But--Bayliss, you know more of this than I. I am certain now that you do. I want you to tell me what you know. Is that girl Frances Morley? Have you seen her? Where is she?” He had stopped laughing. Now he seemed to be considering. “Then you did come over here to find her,” he said, more slowly still. “You were following her, why?” “WHY?”