On arriving at the chamber she had left in such panic the night before, she looked vainly about for the frock she had taken off, which, owing to the haste of her departure from Chicago, was the only one she had brought with her. Hurriedly she rang the bell to summon Marie, and institute inquiries. “Pardon, ma’mselle.” The maid shrugged her shoulders. “Ze skirt had rubbed against ze w’eel of ze motor, and was in a condition deplorable--all covered wiz grease and dust down ze side. I took ze liberty, ma’mselle, to have eet sent to ze cleanair’s, and eet weel not be back before twelve o’clock. Naturally, I did not anticipate zat ma’mselle would arise so early.” Meredith gave a gasp. She herself had not noticed that the dress was soiled on removing it, although she was fair enough to admit that in her preoccupation at that time she might have overlooked even more serious damage. Still, that was not the point. Was she to be held prisoner for any such absurd cause until noon? “But I wish to go out, Marie,” she expostulated, “now, at once! You must get me something to wear.” The girl again shrugged helplessly. “Pardon once more, ma’mselle, but Madame Schildair’s figure is so tall and slendair zat I fear eet would be impossible for ma’mselle to wear any of her gowns. Her waist ees only twenty-two inch, w’ereas ma’mselle”--she cast a calculating glance--“must be fully twenty-six.” “Then get me something of yours,” it was on Meredith’s lips to demand; “something of somebody’s, if even only a raincoat to cover me with.” But she checked herself in time. It would not do to attach too much importance to her errand; already Marie was beginning to eye her curiously. “Very well, then,” she said carelessly. “I suppose I shall simply have to wait. Fortunately, it does not make any especial difference.” After all, the thought had struck her, there would be very little risk in telephoning from the house, provided she used the main instrument in the library downstairs, and saw to it that all the extensions were switched off. But when, with this project in view, she repaired to the library, she found, to her disgust, that Schilder was ensconced there, going over some papers, and she had to fabricate a hasty and rather feeble excuse to account for her intrusion. Moreover, a second visit, a half hour later, found him still there; and when a third trip revealed him seemingly anchored to his chair, and she ventured to inquire, in a casual way, what time he usually departed for business, he informed her, rather shortly, that he was not going to the office that morning. He had matters to attend to at home. A messenger call box in the hall seemed to offer her recourse, and, grasping at the suggestion, she gave the handle a twist which almost jerked it off; then hastened to her room to write a note to Grail.