Osborne got out and pressed the electric bell-push. As I looked up at the windows, I noticed that nowhere was any light visible. Nor was there a light in the ground-floor windows. "I believe everybody is in bed," I said to him, when the bell remained unanswered. Without replying, he pressed the push again, and kept his finger on it. Still no one came. "We'd better call to-morrow," I suggested, when he had rung a third time with the same result. The words had hardly left my lips, when we heard the door-chain rattle. Then the bolts were pulled back, and a moment later the door was carefully drawn open to the length of its chain. Inside all was darkness, nor was anybody visible. "What do you want?" a woman's voice inquired. The voice had a most pleasant _timbre_; also the speaker was obviously a lady. She did not sound in the least alarmed, but there was a note of surprise in the tone. "Has Mr. Gastrell come home yet?" Osborne asked. "Not yet. Do you want to see him?" "Yes. He dined at Brooks's Club this evening with Lord Easterton. Soon after he had left, a purse was found, and, as nobody in the club claimed it, I concluded that it must be his, so I have brought it back." "That is really very good of you, Mr. Osborne," the hidden speaker answered. "If you will wait a moment I will let you in. Are you alone?" "No, I have a friend with me. But who are you? How do you know my name?" There was no answer. The door was shut quietly. Then we heard the sound of the chain being removed. By the time Jack Osborne had paid our driver, and dismissed the taxi, the door had been opened sufficiently wide to admit us. We entered, and at once the door was shut. We were now in inky blackness. "Won't you switch on the light?" Osborne asked, when a minute or so had elapsed, and we remained in total darkness. Nobody answered, and we waited, wondering. Fully another minute passed, and still we stood there. I felt Osborne touch me. Then, coming close to me, he whispered in my ear: "Strike a match, Mike; I haven't one." I felt in my pockets. I had not one either. I was about to tell him so when something clicked behind us, and the hall was flooded with light. Never before had I beheld, and I doubt if I shall ever behold again, a woman as lovely as the tall, graceful being upon whom our eyes rested at that instant. In height quite five foot nine, as she stood there beneath the glow of the electrolier in the luxurious hall, in her dinner dress, the snowy slope of the shoulders and the deep, curved breast, strong, yet all so softly, delicately rounded, gleamed like rosy alabaster in the reflection from the red-shaded light above her.