"Upon my word, I never thought of it," he cried. "I was worried out of my mind. I couldn't decide what to do. Finally, I determined to talk to Mr. Ricardo, and after I had come to that conclusion I just waited impatiently until I could come round with decency." Hanaud rose from his chair. His manner was grave, but conveyed no single hint of an opinion. He turned to Ricardo. "Let us go round to your young friend's rooms in the Adelphi," he said; and the three men drove thither at once. II Calladine lodged in a corner house and upon the first floor. His rooms, large and square and lofty, with Adams mantelpieces and a delicate tracery upon their ceilings, breathed the grace of the eighteenth century. Broad high windows, embrasured in thick walls, overlooked the river and took in all the sunshine and the air which the river had to give. And they were furnished fittingly. When the three men entered the parlour, Mr. Ricardo was astounded. He had expected the untidy litter of a man run to seed, the neglect and the dust of the recluse. But the room was as clean as the deck of a yacht; an Aubusson carpet made the floor luxurious underfoot; a few coloured prints of real value decorated the walls; and the mahogany furniture was polished so that a lady could have used it as a mirror. There was even by the newspapers upon the round table a china bowl full of fresh red roses. If Calladine had turned hermit, he was a hermit of an unusually fastidious type. Indeed, as he stood with his two companions in his dishevelled dress he seemed quite out of keeping with his rooms. "So you live here, Mr. Calladine?" said Hanaud, taking off his hat and laying it down. "Yes." "With your servants, of course?" "They come in during the day," said Calladine, and Hanaud looked at him curiously. "Do you mean that you sleep here alone?" "Yes." "But your valet?" "I don't keep a valet," said Calladine; and again the curious look came into Hanaud's eyes. "Yet," he suggested gently, "there are rooms enough in your set of chambers to house a family." Calladine coloured and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "I prefer at night not to be disturbed," he said, stumbling a little over the words. "I mean, I have a liking for quiet." Gabriel Hanaud nodded his head with sympathy. "Yes, yes. And it is a difficult thing to get--as difficult as my holiday," he said ruefully, with a smile for Mr. Ricardo. "However"--he turned towards Calladine--"no doubt, now that you are at home, you would like a bath and a change of clothes. And when you are dressed, perhaps you will telephone to the Semiramis and ask Miss Carew to come round here. Meanwhile, we will read your newspapers and smoke your cigarettes." Hanaud shut the door upon Calladine, but he turned neither to the papers nor the cigarettes. He crossed the room to Mr. Ricardo, who, seated at the open window, was plunged deep in reflections.