Wolfenden drew on his gloves. "I have not explained myself yet," he said. "The thing must have its limitations, of course, but for a step or two even Densham and I can walk together. Let us form an alliance so far as direct information is concerned. Afterwards it must be every man for himself, of course. I suppose we each have some idea as to how and where to set about making inquiries concerning these people. Very well. Let us each go our own way and share up the information to-night." "I am quite willing," Densham said, "only let this be distinctly understood--we are allies only so far as the collection and sharing of information is concerned. Afterwards, and in other ways, it is each man for himself. If one of us succeeds in establishing a definite acquaintance with them, the thing ends. There is no need for either of us to do anything with regard to the others, which might militate against his own chances." "I am agreeable to that," Harcutt said. "From Densham's very elaborate provisoes I think we may gather that he has a plan." "I agree too," Wolfenden said, "and I specially endorse Densham's limit. It is an alliance so far as regards information only. Suppose we go and have some lunch together now." "I never lunch out, and I have a better idea," said Harcutt. "Let us meet at the 'Milan' to-night for supper at the same time. We can then exchange information, supposing either of us has been fortunate enough to acquire any. What do you say, Wolfenden?" "I am quite willing," Wolfenden said. "And I," echoed Densham. "At half-past eleven, then," Harcutt concluded. CHAPTER VII WHO IS MR. SABIN? Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell was not at home to ordinary callers. Nevertheless when a discreet servant brought her Mr. Francis Densham's card she gave orders for his admittance without hesitation. That he was a privileged person it was easy to see. Mrs. Satchell received him with the most charming of smiles. "My dear Francis," she exclaimed, "I do hope that you have lost that wretched headache! You looked perfectly miserable last night. I was so sorry for you." Densham drew an easy chair to her side and accepted a cup of tea. "I am quite well again," he said. "It was very bad indeed for a little time, but it did not last long. Still I felt that it made me so utterly stupid that I was half afraid you would have written me off your visitors' list altogether as a dull person. I was immensely relieved to be told that you were at home." Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell laughed gaily. She was a bright, blonde little woman with an exquisite figure and piquante face. She had a husband whom no one knew, and gave excellent parties to which every one went. In her way she was something of a celebrity. She and Densham had known each other for many years. "I am not sure," she said, "that you did not deserve it; but then, you see, you are too old a friend to be so summarily dealt with." She raised her blue eyes to his and dropped them, smiling softly.