Possibly something was wrong with the wire, or perhaps it was only that Diana's voice, particularly deep and low-pitched for a woman, misled the speaker at the other end. Whatever it may have been, Adrienne's voice, rather tremulous and shaky, came through the 'phone, and she was obviously under the impression that she was speaking to Diana's husband. "Oh, is that you, Max? Don't be frightened. I'm not badly hurt. I hear it's already in the papers, and as I knew you'd be nearly mad with anxiety, I've made the doctor let me 'phone you myself. Of course you can guess who did it. It was not the man you caught waiting about outside the theatre. It was the taller one of the two we saw at Charing Cross that day. Please come round as soon as you can." Diana's lips set in a straight line. Very deliberately she replaced the receiver and rang off without reply. A small, fine smile curved her lips as she reflected that, within a few minutes, Max's arrival at Somervell Street would enlighten Miss de Gervais as to the fact that she had bean pouring out her reassuring remarks to the wrong person. Half an hour later Diana came slowly downstairs, dressed for dinner. Jerry was waiting for her in the hall. "There's a 'phone message just come through from Max," he said, a trifle awkwardly. (Jerry had not lived through the past few months at Lilac Lodge without realising the terms on which the Erringtons stood with each other.) "He won't be back till late." Diana bestowed her sweetest smile upon him. "Then we shall be dining _tete-a-tete_. How nice! Come along." She took his arm and they went in together. "This is a very serious thing about Miss de Gervais, isn't it?" she said conversationally, as they sat down. "A dastardly business," assented Jerry, with indignation. "I suppose--did Max give you any further particulars?" "The bullet's broken her arm just above the elbow. Of course she won't be able to play for some time to come." "How her understudy must be rejoicing," murmured Diana reflectively. "It seems," pursued Jerry, "that the shot was fired by some shady actor fellow. Down on his luck, you know, and jealous of Miss de Gervais' success. At least, that's what they suspect, and Max has 'phoned me to send a paragraph to all the morning papers to that effect." "That's very curious," commented Diana. "Why? I should think it's a jolly good guess." Diana smiled enigmatically. "Anyhow, it sounds a very natural supposition," she agreed lightly, and then switched the conversation on to other subjects. Jerry, however, seemed rather absent and distrait, and presently, when at last the servants had handed the coffee and withdrawn, he blurted out:-- "It sounds beastly selfish of me, but this affair has upset my own little plans rather badly." "Yours, Jerry?" said Diana kindly. "How's that? Give me a cigarette and tell me what's gone wrong."