"I did not know that your mail came to the club," said Merrihew. "It doesn't. Only rarely a letter drifts this way." "Well, go on and read it; don't let me keep you from it. Some charmer, I'll wager. Here I pour all my adventures into your ear, and I on my side never so much as get a hint of yours. Go on, read it." "Adventures, fiddlesticks! The letter can wait. It is probably a bill." "A bill in a fashionable envelope like that?" Hillard only smiled, tipped the cradle and refilled Merrihew's glass with some excellent Romanee Conti. "When does Kitty sail?" he asked, after a while of silence. "A week from this Saturday, February second. What the deuce did you bring up that for? I've been trying to forget it." "Where do they land?" "Naples. They open in Rome the first week in March. All the arrangements and bookings seem to be complete. This is mighty good Burgundy, Jack. I don't see where you pick it up." After coffee Merrihew pushed back his chair. "I'll reserve a table in the billiard-room while you read your letter." "I'll be with you shortly," gratefully. So, with the inevitable black cigar between his teeth, Merrihew sauntered off toward the billiard-room, while Hillard picked up his letter and studied it. His fingers trembled slightly as he tore open the envelope. The handwriting, the paper, the modest size, all these pointed to a woman of culture and refinement. But a subtle spirit of irony pervaded it all. She would never have answered his printed inquiry had she not laughed over it. For, pinned to the top of the letter was the clipping, the stupid, banal clipping--"Will the lady who sang from _Madame Angot_ communicate with gentleman who leaned out of the window? J.H. Burgomaster Club." There was neither a formal beginning nor a formal ending; only four crisp lines. But these implied one thing, and distinctly: the writer had no desire for further communication "with gentleman who leaned out of the window." He read and re-read slowly. I am sorry to learn that my singing disturbed you. There was a reason. At that partic- ular moment I was happy.