As he leaned out, Jane watched him from beneath her hand, and recalled Renata’s words, “He generally wears a fur coat; they call him Number Two.” This man wore a fur coat over pale blue silk pyjamas. When he turned, saying, “I can’t see a thing,” she was ready with her stammered, “What was it?” “You heard it, then?” said Molloy. “Such a fearful crash! It—it frightened me most dreadfully,”—and here Jane spoke the literal truth. “I don’t know.” It was Molloy who answered again, but the other man’s eyes travelled round the room, and a feeling of terror came over Jane. If she had forgotten anything, if there were one shred of incriminating evidence, those eyes would miss nothing! She felt as if they must pierce the bedclothes and see her bag and the hidden key, but he merely nodded to Molloy, and they left the room, switching out the light and locking the door. Jane drew a long breath of relief, turned upon her side, and in five minutes was asleep again. The day came in with a thick mist. Jane opened her eyes upon it sleepily. She began to think what a strange dream she had had, and then, as sleep ebbed from her, she remembered that it was not a dream at all. She was Renata Molloy under lock and key, and in front of her stretched a day that might be even more crowded with adventure than yesterday. She jumped out of bed, and as she dressed her eyes brightened and her courage rose. With Renata’s scissors she unpicked the initials which marked her underclothes. This was a game at which one must not make a single slip. Her bag worried her a little, but it was just such a plain leather bag as any one might possess. She ransacked it carefully, and frowned over an envelope addressed to Miss Jane Smith. What in the world was she to do with it? There were no matches, so it could not be burned. After some thought she soaked it in water, scratched the name to shreds with a hairpin, and crumpling the wet paper into a ball, tossed it out of the window. By the time her door was unlocked, she was very hungry. This time, it appeared, she was being summoned to bid the departing Mr. Molloy a fond farewell. His luggage was already being carried out to the lift, and two or three men were coming and going. The man in the fur coat stood with his back to the window, smoking a cigarette. Obviously Molloy’s farewell was not to be said in private. Jane looked at him with some curiosity—a tall man, strongly built, with a bold air and a florid complexion. It was he who had opened the door, and he stood still holding the handle and looking, not at Jane, but over her shoulder. For this she felt grateful. “Well, well then, I’m off,” said Molloy. “You’ll be a good girl and do as you’re bid, and I’ll be having you out to keep house for me in less than no time.” From what she had seen of Renata, Jane fancied that a sob would meet the occasion. She therefore sobbed, and pressed her handkerchief to her eyes. “There, there,” said Molloy hastily.