There were no difficulties at the office. The next afternoon, at half-past four, we took the place of the departed orchestra. The change was pleasantly received by the majority of the guests. Mr. Grant, however, while Rose was still in the middle of her introductory pianoforte solo, stumped out of the room with his hand to his ear, and Mrs. Cotesham deliberately turned her chair round and sat with her back to us. On the other hand, Mr. Kinlosti, passing through the hall leaning on his servant's arm, on his way from his bath, caught sight of Rose at the piano and lingered. He whispered in his servant's ear, found a chair and a table, and seated himself in a dark corner. Presently the latter brought him from upstairs a pot of specially prepared tea and some cigarettes. He remained there throughout the whole of our performance, his eyes fixed upon Rose,--strange, uncanny eyes they were. The corner he had chosen was close to where we were playing, and the flavour of his Russian cigarettes and highly scented tea attracted Rose's attention, so that more than once she turned and looked at him. For the first time I saw a very faint smile part his thin lips. "A conquest," I whispered to Rose, as I bent over her chair to move some music. She made a little grimace. "All the same," she said, "I'd love some of his cigarettes." That evening, just before the time fixed for the commencement of our performance, another typewritten note was put into my hand, again unsigned and undated. This is what I read: It is my wish that if a person of the name of Kinlosti should seek acquaintance with any of you, he should be encouraged. Particularly impress this upon Miss Mindel. I took Leonard on one side. "Leonard," I said, "our souls are trash, and what happens to us doesn't matter a damn. But read this!" Leonard read it and swore. "Can you get into touch with Thomson?" he asked. "Only through the banker's address in London," I replied. "Where these typewritten notes drop from not a soul seems to know." Rose came up and read the message over our shoulders. Her view of the matter was different. "What fun!" she exclaimed. "Perhaps I shall get some cigarettes." "You don't suppose we are going to allow this?" I asked hotly. "Not for one moment!" Leonard echoed. She laughed softly. "You idiots!" she exclaimed. "Do you think I can't take care of myself? Or don't you trust me?" "You know that it isn't that," I rejoined, "but neither Leonard nor I are willing to see you made a cat's-paw of." "Russians don't know how to treat women," Leonard put in. She became serious, but she remained very determined. "Anyhow," she said, "I know how to treat Russians, so please leave me alone. Remember that I, too, am under contract to Mr. Mephistopheles Thomson, and although I love you both, you're not my guardians."