He stood with the door open, watching them go down the corridor. Then he came slowly back into his room. Once more the telephone bell began to ring. He picked up the receiver. The indifference of his opening monosyllable vanished in a second. Something amazing crept into his face. "Who?--Lady Dredlinton?" he exclaimed. "But where are you?--Downstairs?--Yes--Yes--Why, of course.--Here?--You mean that you are coming here, up to my room?--I don't quite understand.--Yes, of course.--One moment, please. Come up by the east lift unless you want to meet Sarah Baldwin and Wilshaw. They have this moment left me. The hall porter will show you." Wingate laid down the receiver, glanced for a moment at the clock, hurried to the door, pushed back and secured the latch. Then he came back into the room and stood listening. In the end she came quite suddenly. The door had opened and closed before he heard even the swish of her skirts. She stood there looking at him a little appealingly. She was dressed in dark travelling clothes and she carried a heavy dressing case in her hand. He sprang forward and took it from her. "My dear friend," she exclaimed, with an attempt at levity, "don't look so tragic! There is a very simple explanation of this extraordinary visit, as you will soon find." "It needs no explanation," he declared. "Oh, yes, it does, of course," she continued. "I simply want you to intercede with the authorities here, so that I do not have to go and stand at that terrible counter. There is a continental train just in, and the place is crowded." "You wish to stay here for the night?" "Mayn't I? I have always heard that it was such a charming hotel, and I must stay somewhere." "There is some trouble?" he asked slowly. "There is always trouble," she replied, with a shrug of the shoulders. "To-night seems to me as though it may be the climax. You won't be horrified if I sit down and smoke one of your cigarettes? And may I remind you that your attitude is not entirely hospitable?" Wingate had recovered from his first stupor. His eyes were very bright, he was filled with the sense of wonderful happenings. "Oh, I'll be as hospitable as you like," he assured her. "You shan't have any cause to reproach me so far as that is concerned. This easy-chair, please. It is by far the most comfortable one. And now some cushions," he added, slipping them behind her. "The cigarettes are here, and I have some excellent hock. Just half a glass? Good! Miss Baldwin has been praising my sandwiches. You'll have one, won't you?" She sighed with content, almost with happiness. The strained look had gone from her face. She took off her hat and he laid it upon the table. "You are very good, very kind indeed," she murmured. "And yet not so kind as I would like to be." He came and stood by her side. She was eating one of the sandwiches and had already tasted the wine. Somehow, he knew quite well that she had had no dinner.