Jim Langham was trembling. He leaned across, and whispered. "You've seen a ghost?" she echoed. "Don't be so stupid. There are no such things nowadays, especially in a neighbourhood like this. Where did you come across it?" "Near--near the station. I've only just come from Wallingford. I was hurrying up the slope on the right-hand side, and about to turn into the hotel, when across the way--" He looked around apprehensively, and caught sight of Mrs. Mills peeping over the half blind of the parlour door. Gertie sent her a reassuring nod, and she disappeared. "What have I done," he wailed appealingly, "that everybody should spy? A police sergeant gazed at me in a most peculiar way about two minutes ago. What does it mean, Miss Higham?" "Doesn't matter what it means," she said sharply, "so long as you've done nothing wrong. Pull yourself together, Mr. Langham. Why don't you knock off the drink, and be a man?" "I'll go and get some now." "It will do you no good. You've been in the habit of taking it when you didn't need it, and you've spoilt it as a remedy. Stay here for a while, and calm yourself." "Bad enough," he complained, "when living people begin to track you about, but when the others start doing it--!" He shivered. Gertie went to the parlour, and asked her aunt to make some coffee. "Has Lady Douglass gone away yet?" "Now why, apropos of nothing, should you mention her name?" "You never did have much sense about you, and now you seem to have none at all. Concentrate your mind. Think! What was the question I put to you?" He admitted he could not recall it, and she repeated the inquiry. "Leaves early to-morrow morning," he answered; "that is partly why I have come up to town. I don't want to see her again before she goes." Jim Langham rested elbows on the counter, and covered eyes with his hands. "Have you ever," he asked, "in the course of your existence, met with a bigger fool than me?" "To be quite candid," said Gertie, "I don't think I have." She fetched the cup from the back room, and brought it to him. He sipped at the hot beverage, and appeared to recover. "Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked courteously. She laughed. "This is half a tobacconist's shop!" "Quite so," remarked Jim Langham, taking a cigar from his case. "I say," he went on confidentially, taking the movable gas jet, "do you know anything about the Argentine?" "Mr. Trew might tell you something about it if he were here. I don't take any interest in horse-racing." "It's a place in South America," he said. "I've an idea of getting out there, and making a fresh start. But I'm in the state of mind that prevents me from knowing how to set about it. It would be a great kindness on your part to give me some assistance." "I want all the money I've saved up." He placed his hand in his waistcoat pocket and pulled out sovereigns. Gertie, taking a newspaper, turned the pages to find the shipping advertisements.