“I can relieve your mind there, Mr. Longvale,” said Michael. “Once you are registered, you are always registered, and you acted quite within your rights.” “So my lawyer informed me,” said Longvale gravely. “Was it a bad case?” asked Michael, who guessed who the patient was. “No, it was not a bad case. I thought there was blood poisoning, but I think perhaps I may have been mistaken. Medical science has made such great advance since I was a young man that I almost feared to prescribe. Whilst I am only too happy to render any service that humanity demands, I must confess that it was rather a disturbing experience, and I scarcely slept all night. In fact, it was a very disturbing evening and night. Somebody, for some extraordinary reason, put a motor-bicycle in my garden.” Michael smiled to himself. “I cannot understand why. It had gone this morning. And then I saw our friend Foss, who seemed very much perturbed about something.” “Where did you see him?” asked Michael quickly. “He was passing my house. I was standing at the gate, smoking my pipe, and bade him good night without knowing who he was. When he turned back, I saw it was Mr. Foss. He told me he had been to make a call, and that he had another appointment in an hour.” “What time was this?” asked Michael. “I think it must have been eleven o’clock.” The old man hesitated. “I’m not sure. It was just before I went to bed.” Michael could easily account for Foss’s conduct. Sir Gregory had hurried him off and told him to come back after the girl had gone. “My little place used to be remarkable for its quietness,” said Mr. Longvale, and shook his head. “Perhaps,” turning to Knebworth, “when your picture is finished you will be so good as to allow me to see it?” “Why, surely, Mr. Longvale.” “I don’t know why I’m taking this tremendous interest,” chuckled the old man. “I must confess that, until a few weeks ago, film-making was a mystery to me. And even to-day it belongs to the esoteric sciences.” Dicker thrust his head in the door. “Will you see Miss Mendoza?” he asked. Jack Knebworth’s expression was one of utter weariness. “No,” he said curtly. “She says——” began Dicker. Only the presence of the venerable Mr. Longvale prevented Jack from expressing his views on Stella Mendoza and all that she could say. “There’s another person I saw last night,” nodded Mr. Longvale. “I thought at first you must be shooting—is that the expression?—in the neighbourhood, but Mr. Foss told me that I was mistaken. She’s rather a charming girl, don’t you think?” “Very,” said Jack dryly. “A very sweet disposition,” Longvale went on, unconscious of the utter lack of sympathy in the atmosphere. “Nowadays, the confusion and hurry which modernity brings in its trail do not make for sweetness of temper, and one is glad to meet an exception. Not that I am an enemy of modernity. To me, this is the most delightful phase of my long life.”