David frowned down the notion of such a horror. He told himself that it was dark when he had seen Van Hupfeldt, that there were many tall men with white teeth and black mustaches, and sallow, dark skins. If he had felt some sort of antipathy to Van Hupfeldt at first sight, this was no proof of evil in Van Hupfeldt's nature, but a proof only, perhaps, of David's capabilities of being jealous of one more favored than himself by nature as he fancied--and by Violet Mordaunt, which was the notion that rankled. And yet he tingled. Dibbin had said that this Van Hupfeldt might be "a new friend--one who had become a friend since the death of Gwendoline." David paced the room with slow steps, and while Dibbin talked on of one or another of the people who had known Gwendoline Mordaunt in the flesh, vowed to himself that he would take this matter on his shoulders and see it through. "Speaking of the Miss L'Estrange who was in the flat before me," said he; "how long did she stay in it?" "Three months, nearly," answered Dibbin, "and then all of a sudden she wouldn't stay another day. And I had no means of forcing her to do so either." "What? Did the ghost suddenly get worse?" "I couldn't quite tell you what happened. Miss Ermyn L'Estrange isn't a lady altogether easy to understand when in an excited condition. Suffice it to say, she wouldn't stay another hour, and went off with a noise like a catherine-wheel." "Quite so. But I say, Dibbin, can you give me the address of the lady?" "With pleasure," said the agent, in whom brandy and soda acted as a solvent. "I am a man, Mr. Harcourt, with three hundred and odd addresses in my head, I do assure you. But, then, Miss L'Estrange is a bird of passage--" "All right, just write down the address that you know; and there is one other address that I want, Mr. Dibbin--that of the girl who acted as help to Miss Gwendoline Mordaunt." Dibbin had known this address also, and with the promise to see if he could find it among his papers--for it was he who had recommended the girl--went away. He was hardly gone when Harcourt, who did not let the grass grow under his feet, put on hat and coat, and started out to call upon Miss Ermyn L'Estrange. CHAPTER V VON OR VAN? The address of Miss L'Estrange, given to David by Dibbin, was in King's Road, Chelsea, and thither David set out, thinking in his cab of that word "papers," of the oddness of Violet's question at the grave: "What have you done with my sister's papers?" Whatever papers might be meant, it was hardly to be supposed that Miss L'Estrange knew aught of them, yet he hoped for information from her, since a tenant next in order is always likely to have gathered many bits of knowledge about the former tenant.