At half-past ten this morning I went round to the offices of the Women's Emancipation League in Gray's Inn. I can't say, even when I found myself there, asking for Miss Levey, that I was very clear in my own mind as to why I had gone, but if anybody _had_ been tampering with Evie, it was as likely to be the Jewess as anybody else. She kept me waiting: a thing, I may say, that few people do nowadays. I waited in a matchboarded anteroom, among emancipated flappers and middle-aged disciples of Schmerveloff. Then Miss Levey herself came in as if by accident, and gushed out into apologies. She had had no idea it was I, she said; she did so beg my pardon.... She showed me into an inner room in which a hairy man, the single male-bird of the run, was expounding from a Blue Book to three or four more women; one of them was the lady who had participated in the intellectual courtship on the night of Aunt Angela's party. I turned to Miss Levey. "I should like, if I may, to speak to you in private," I said. She asked if Mr Boris's room was empty. The hairy man, looking up from his Blue Book for a moment, said that he thought so. She led the way into Mr Boris's room. At the sight of her all my old dislike revived, and I found myself able to go straight to the point. I did so, without wasting a word. "I've called to ask you, Miss Levey, whether you've given my wife the impression that I was the cause of your leaving the Freight and Ballast Company in order that room might he made for Miss Causton?" She gave a shocked "Mis-ter Jeffries!" but I held up my hand. "I know I'm putting it bluntly. You can be as blunt as you like also. Will you tell me whether that is so?" "May I die, Mr Jeffries--but _surely_ you know I'd arranged with Mr Schmerveloff long before!" "I see. You dismissed us. Very well. Then let me put it in another form. Have you, in my wife's hearing, associated my name with Miss Causton's in any way whatever?" This time her answer was not quite so ready. When it came, it was a question. "Do you mean lately, Mr Jeffries?" "At any time, but especially lately." Then she broke into glib speech, and all her "w's" became "v's." "There, now I _knew_ there vould be mischief before it was all over! 'Vot _is_ the good of going into it?' I said; 'vot _is_ the good, ven nobody even believed it at the time? Evie was there,'I said, 'and knew it was not true, so vy rake it all up now, Kitty?' I said. 'Ve all knew all about poor Louie,' I said, 'and vot's done's done anyway, and Evie doesn't vant to hear about it.'" Here, suddenly tingling curiously all over, I interrupted Miss Levey. I spoke with a steadiness that astonished myself. "One moment. You seem to be speaking of a definite occasion. Was this lately?" Miss Levey was all pouting bosom, thick lips and fluent hands.