"Oh, you would have been all right," said Tony cheerfully. "Somebody else would have come along and knocked those interfering gentlemen down for you. London is full of obliging strangers. We just had the good luck to be the first--that was all." "It was not all," returned Isabel with spirit. "There was the supper, and finding me somewhere to go to, and asking me to breakfast this morning, and--and--oh, being so nice about everything." She hesitated. "Your friend--the one who fought for us so bravely--I hope he was not hurt?" Tony shook his head. "You couldn't hurt Bugg," he said, "except with a pickaxe." "I hope you told him how grateful I was to him," she added. "I haven't had the chance yet," replied Tony. "He hasn't come home." A sudden look of concern flashed into Isabel's amber eyes. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "perhaps he is hurt after all. Perhaps he is in a hospital!" "I should think it much more likely that he's in a police station," observed Tony. "I can't think why he hasn't rung up though, unless it's because he is anxious to keep my name out of it. For a prize-fighter Bugg has the most wonderfully delicate feelings." "A prize-fighter!" echoed Isabel. "Is he a prize-fighter like--like--like Carpentier?" "Something like him," said Tony; "especially the way he covers up." He paused. "Bugg is really quite a famous person in his way you know. He is practically the welter-weight champion of England. He only stays on here and works for me because it amuses him. I meant to explain last night, but there were so many other things to talk about." "I see," said Isabel slowly. "And you were just walking together?" "Well, as a matter of fact, Bugg had been boxing at the Cosmopolitan Club. It was over rather earlier than we expected, and I was taking him along to give him some supper. That's how we happened to be in Long Acre." Isabel nodded. "I understand. It is all plain now. Last night I was frightened and everything seemed so confused." "I don't wonder at it," said Tony sympathetically. "Unless one's led a very strenuous life it must be horribly confusing to be suddenly held up by a couple of dagoes in Long Acre, and then rescued by a future champion of England." There was a long pause. "I--I feel somehow that I ought to explain," began Isabel uncomfortably. "You have been so nice about not asking any questions, but of course you must be wondering who I am, and--and how things came to be like this." "Only mildly and pleasantly," said Tony. "I never allow my curiosity to get painful." Isabel set down her cup. "I would tell you if I could," she said rather desperately, "but there are reasons why I mustn't." Tony's face brightened at once. "How nice!" he observed. "I love mystery, and so few people have any of it about them nowadays--especially in Hampstead."