He unlocked the heavy door, passed through the uncarpeted passage--there are no frills on Government offices--and led the way up the stairs to the suite on the first floor which constituted his bureau. He switched on all the lights and surveyed his visitor, a comfortable person of the landlady type. “A good sort,” thought T. X., “but somewhat overweighted with lorgnettes and seal-skin.” “You will pardon my coming to see you at this hour of the night,” she began deprecatingly, “but as my dear father used to say, 'Hopi soit qui mal y pense.'” “Your dear father being in the garter business?” suggested T. X. humorously. “Won't you sit down, Mrs. ----” “Mrs. Cassley,” beamed the lady as she seated herself. “He was in the paper hanging business. But needs must, when the devil drives, as the saying goes.” “What particular devil is driving you, Mrs. Cassley?” asked T. X., somewhat at a loss to understand the object of this visit. “I may be doing wrong,” began the lady, pursing her lips, “and two blacks will never make a white.” “And all that glitters is not gold,” suggested T. X. a little wearily. “Will you please tell me your business, Mrs. Cassley? I am a very hungry man.” “Well, it's like this, sir,” said Mrs. Cassley, dropping her erudition, and coming down to bedrock homeliness; “I've got a young lady stopping with me, as respectable a gel as I've had to deal with. And I know what respectability is, I might tell you, for I've taken professional boarders and I have been housekeeper to a doctor.” “You are well qualified to speak,” said T. X. with a smile. “And what about this particular young lady of yours! By the way what is your address?” “86a Marylebone Road,” said the lady. T. X. sat up. “Yes?” he said quickly. “What about your young lady?” “She works as far as I can understand,” said the loquacious landlady, “with a certain Mr. Kara in the typewriting line. She came to me four months ago.” “Never mind when she came to you,” said T. X. impatiently. “Have you a message from the lady?” “Well, it's like this, sir,” said Mrs. Cassley, leaning forward confidentially and speaking in the hollow tone which she had decided should accompany any revelation to a police officer, “this young lady said to me, 'If I don't come any night by 8 o'clock you must go to T. X. and tell him--'!” She paused dramatically. “Yes, yes,” said T. X. quickly, “for heaven's sake go on, woman.” “'Tell him,'” said Mrs. Cassley, “'that Belinda Mary--'” He sprang to his feet.