"Well, this is what I call remarkable--simply re-markable," said Maxwell-Pitt to himself as he walked to his hotel. "How on earth should she know of the V.C. business, and, what is more, that I had to pay my entrance fee by a previous burglary? Who could have told her? I wonder why any member should be so extremely anxious to assist me. . . . Stop! Was it really a member? There's that man Marvell--the detective. He has been present at two former burglaries--called in by accident, certainly, but he has his eye on us, and perhaps he now has some means of finding out in advance the task set to members. The remarkably obliging Adèle may be merely a female detective. She may assist me to get into the house, and show me where the V.C. is, and then, when I get it, her friend Marvell will appear. In that case Richards and his sister are in the know, and this apparently casual meeting just now, and Adèle's annoyance, was pre-arranged to throw me off the scent. It seems to me, Maxwell-Pitt, that you'll have to be very careful what you are about, or you'll be landed to-night, and by a woman." That evening he kept his appointment at the street-corner. The maid was late. The clocks had chimed the quarter before she came, hot and breathless--not her cool, nonchalant self of the morning. "It has been so difficult to leave," she explained. "Miss Richards would have me to read to her after the dinner. Walter Scott! And me dying all the time to be here, Mr.---- What shall I call you?" "Jones," said Maxwell-Pitt, "is a dreamy, romantic name, very suitable for a mushroom picker." "Yes; Jones is a beautiful name," she replied. "Have you decided to pick to-night, Mr. Jones?" "I should like to." "You wish me to leave that window open?" "If you will." "And what do you give me, if you please?" "I beg your pardon?" "What am I going to have of it all?" "'All.' That is rather a big word for the little mushroom I shall take away; but if you would like some memento of the occasion, what shall it be? A bracelet?" "A bracelet? _Comment!_ Absurd! With my help, _m'sieu_, it will not be a little mushroom, _point du tout_. For me myself I demand fifty pounds." Maxwell-Pitt stared at her blankly. "What is it now?" she cried angrily. "_Mais_, you are too stupid--more stupid than the ordinary Englishman. Miss Richards has some fine pearls, and her diamonds are _magnifiques_, and I can give them to you. This is not to be another Wedderburn mistake." "Ah, quite so--quite so," replied Maxwell-Pitt, who was absolutely nonplussed by the turn the conversation had taken. Then he drew his bow at a venture. "Wedderburn made a bit of a mistake, didn't he?" he said. She looked at him sharply. "'He.' Who's 'he'? You know precisely that I speak of the burglary at Wedderburn 'Ouse last week, where you were not very clever." "Oh, of course, of course. I understand," said Maxwell-Pitt.