"She is under the special wing of the Princess. She is up at that end of the room somewhere with a lot of old frumps." "Have you asked for an introduction?" Densham nodded. "Yes, I asked young Lobenski. It is no good. He does not know who she is; but she does not dance, and is not allowed to make acquaintances. That is what it comes to, anyway. It was not a personal matter at all. Lobenski did not even mention my name to his mother. He simply said a friend. The Princess replied that she was very sorry, but there was some difficulty. The young lady's guardian did not wish her to make acquaintances for the present." "Her guardian! He's not her father, then?" "No! It was either her guardian or her uncle! I am not sure which. By Jove! There they go! They're off." They both hurried to the cloak-room for their coats, and reached the street in time to see the people in whom they were so interested coming down the stairs towards them. In the glare of the electric light, the girl's pale, upraised face shone like a piece of delicate statuary. To Densham, the artist, she was irresistible. He drew Harcutt right back amongst the shadows. "She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life," he said deliberately. "Titian never conceived anything more exquisite. She is a woman to paint and to worship!" "What are you going to do now?" Harcutt asked drily. "You can rave about her in your studio, if you like." "I am going to find out where she lives, if I have to follow her home on foot! It will be something to know that." "Two of us," Harcutt protested. "It is too obvious." "I can't help that," Densham replied. "I do not sleep until I have found out." Harcutt looked dubious. "Look here," he said, "we need not both go! I will leave it to you on one condition." "Well?" "You must let me know to-morrow what you discover." Densham hesitated. "Agreed," he decided. "There they go! Good-night. I will call at your rooms, or send a note, to-morrow." Densham jumped into his cab and drove away. Harcutt looked after them thoughtfully. "The girl is very lovely," he said to himself, as he stood on the pavement waiting for his carriage; "but I do not think that she is for you, Densham, or for me! On the whole, I am more interested in the man!" CHAPTER V THE DILEMMA OF WOLFENDEN Wolfenden was evidently absolutely unprepared to see the girl whom he found occupying his own particular easy chair in his study. The light was only a dim one, and as she did not move or turn round at his entrance he did not recognise her until he was standing on the hearthrug by her side. Then he started with a little exclamation. "Miss Merton! Why, what on earth----"