“Probably not, but I’d have a damned good try.” “Are you sorry you ever met me?” she said suddenly. “Lord no. It’s the red signal again. When I first saw you—that day in Pont Street, I knew I was up against something that was going to hurt like fun. Your face did that to me—just your face. There’s magic in you from head to foot—some women are like that, but I’ve never known a woman who had so much of it as you have. You’ll marry some one respectable and prosperous, I suppose, and I shall return to my disreputable life, but I’ll kiss you once before I go—I swear I will.” “You can’t do it now,” said Virginia softly. “Superintendent Battle is watching us out of the library window.” Anthony looked at her. “You’re rather a devil, Virginia,” he said dispassionately. “But rather a dear too.” Then he waved his hand airily to Superintendent Battle. “Caught any criminals this morning, Battle?” “Not as yet, Mr. Cade.” “That sounds hopeful.” Battle, with an agility surprising in so stolid a man, vaulted out of the library window and joined them on the terrace. “I’ve got Professor Wynward down here,” he announced in a whisper. “Just this minute arrived. He’s decoding the letters now. Would you like to see him at work?” His tone suggested that of the showman speaking of some pet exhibit. Receiving a reply in the affirmative, he led them up to the window and invited them to peep inside. Seated at a table, the letters spread out in front of him and writing busily on a big sheet of paper was a small red-haired man of middle age. He grunted irritably to himself as he wrote, and every now and then rubbed his nose violently until its hue almost rivalled that of his hair. Presently he looked up. “That you, Battle? What you want me down here to unravel this tomfoolery for? A child in arms could do it. A baby of two could do it on its head. Call this thing a cipher? It leaps to the eye, man.” “I’m glad of that, Professor,” said Battle mildly. “But we’re not all so clever as you are, you know.” “It doesn’t need cleverness,” snapped the Professor. “It’s routine work. Do you want the whole bundle done? It’s a long business, you know—requires diligent application and close attention, and absolutely no intelligence. I’ve done the one dated ‘Chimneys’ which you said was important. I might as well take the rest back to London and hand ’em over to one of my assistants. I really can’t afford the time myself. I’ve come away now from a real teaser, and I want to get back to it.” His eyes glistened a little. “Very well, Professor,” assented Battle. “I’m sorry we’re such small fry. I’ll explain to Mr. Lomax. It’s just this one letter that all the hurry is about. Lord Caterham is expecting you to stay for lunch, I believe.” “Never have lunch,” said the Professor. “Bad habit, lunch. A banana and a water biscuit is all any sane and healthy man should need in the middle of the day.”