For several seconds Tony remained where he was, contemplating the spot where they had disappeared. Then, with that pleasant, unhurried smile of his, he pulled out his case, and slowly and thoughtfully lighted himself a cigarette. "One might almost imagine," he observed, "that Da Freitas didn't want to take me into his confidence." CHAPTER VII BUGG'S STRATEGY There was a knock outside. "Come in," said Tony, who was arranging his tie in front of the glass. The door opened, and Guy Oliver walked into the bedroom. He was in evening dress, which if possible made him look more sedate than ever. "Hullo, Guy!" said Tony; "I am afraid I am a little late. Is Cousin Henry fuming on the mat?" Guy shook his head. "He hasn't turned up yet: it's only just gone half-past." He seated himself on the end of the bed. "How did you get on at Brooklands?" he asked. Tony stepped back from the glass and contemplated his tie with some satisfaction. "I had quite a cheerful day," he replied. "I managed to squeeze eighty-six out of her, and finished up by breaking the back-axle." Guy nodded grimly. "You will break your neck some day," he observed, "and then I suppose you will be satisfied." "I doubt it," said Tony; "not if our present theology is anything approaching accurate." He picked up a dinner-jacket from the bed and began slowly to put it on. "Besides," he added thoughtfully, "I shouldn't like to die just yet. I think I see a chance of doing a little good in the world." Guy looked at him suspiciously. "Who was that girl you had to breakfast with you?" he asked. "Really, Guy!" said Tony, "you get more cynical every day." He crossed to the washstand, and taking a carnation out of its glass proceeded to arrange it in his button-hole. "But who is she?" persisted Guy. "She is my adopted cousin. Her name is Isabel--Isabel Francis. I adopted her after breakfast this morning." There was a short pause. Then in a faintly ironical voice Guy observed: "Since she appears to be a relation of mine also, perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me where and when you met her." "Not in the least," said Tony imperturbably. "We met each other in Long Acre last night at about a quarter to eleven." "Where?" exclaimed Guy. "Long Acre," repeated Tony. "It's a popular thoroughfare running out of Leicester Square." He watched his cousin's face for a moment with some enjoyment, and then added: "If you would try to look less like the recording angel I might tell you all about it." "Go on," said Guy. Tony paused to light a cigarette, and then seated himself on the bed. "It was like this," he began. "Bugg and I were coming down Long Acre after the fight, when we saw Isabel being--being--what's the word--'accosted' by a couple of gentlemen who looked like dressed-up organ-grinders. As an Englishman and a baronet I thought it was my duty to interfere. "You would," said Guy with conviction.