The car ran through the deserted streets of Reading along the long road to Maidenhead. Still her problem was not solved. Who was behind Dorn? She had for him a certain amount of admiration. She had known, the moment he came into the case, that the little men who had seemed so big, Chesney Praye and the doctor, were valueless. The car came noiselessly to the door of Lois Reddle’s home. She looked up at the lighted windows and was slightly amused. Selwyn would be there, basking in the approval of the bourgeoisie. Even her feeling of bitterness towards him had been blunted on the journey. This was to be the last throw. Old Mackenzie, on his way up to Lizzy’s kitchenette to brew more coffee, heard the knock and called to Lizzy: “There’s somebody at the door, miss: will you open it for me?” A transfigured Lizzy, dustless and tidy, ran down the stairs two at a time and pulled open the door. At first she did not recognise the woman, and then: “You can’t come in here, ma’am,” she said. “I wish to see Miss Reddle,” said the countess. “Please don’t be ridiculous!” She had still an overawing effect upon Lizzy, and the girl stood on one side, and followed the leisurely figure up the stairs. The door of Mackenzie’s room was open, and as she walked into the chamber, a sudden silence fell upon the gathering. She looked from face to face and smiled. But the smile faded when her eyes rested upon the man who sat by the plain deal table near the window. “Mr. Shaddles!” she faltered. He nodded. “So it was you? I might have guessed that.” “Yes, madam, it was I. My family have been the Moron lawyers for hundreds of years, and it was not likely that I should cease to study their interests.” “It was you!” she said again. “I should have guessed that. You opposed my marriage to Lord Moron.” He nodded. “I should have opposed it more if I had known what I know now,” he said. “Will you be seated?” She nodded and sat down, her bag on her knees, opened. Michael Dorn stood by the lawyer’s side, and his eyes never left her face. “Well, I suppose everybody knows now?” said the countess pleasantly. “Nobody knows--yet. I particularly asked Miss Smith, when she called me on the ’phone, not to tell the story until I came. It is not a long story, madam, if you will permit me?” She nodded. “The late Earl of Moron married twice,” said Shaddles. “By his first wife he had a son, William. By his second wife--which is your ladyship--a son, Selwyn, who is with us to-night. William was a high-spirited, honourable young man, who served Her Majesty Queen Victoria in a regiment of Highlanders. He was a thought romantic, and nothing was more natural than that, when he met Mary Pinder----” “Mary Pinder!” gasped Lois, but he did not notice the interruption.