Drew's answer to Delaney's question was a grinding of teeth and a sharp oath of defiance. He clutched the operative's arm in a nipping grip. He led him into the tiny reception-hall of the suite. The detective paused on the threshold of a larger room. He dropped his hand from Delaney's arm. He stabbed sharp glances here and there about the interior. He widened his eyes as they came to rest upon a further doorway, which was hung with soft tapestries gathered to the side-walls by cords of silk. Beyond this doorway, like the vista of some rare painting, shone an inner light of a woman's shrine. Silver and pearl and old rose blended into a bower such as is found in palaces. Tiny medallions and plaques and miniatures--narrow framed studies in oil--fans, vases, statuettes of ivory and rare china, a hundred choice and dainty objects of haute-art were in that splendid room. Drew advanced over a rug so soft and deep he felt like a peri entering Paradise. He brushed aside the tapestries and strode swiftly forward. His hat came off as Loris advanced to meet him from a large chamber, wherein the color scheme had been worked out in black and white with a suggestion of green-in-gold. He forgot the material things of that apartment as he bowed gallantly. He thrust his hand forward and clasped strong fingers over her own. The grief of her father's death had widened her eyes and set them in circles of dark brows and tear-stained features. Her voice clutched in her throat as she tried to speak. Her hand was drawn from his slowly. It raised to her broad forehead beneath her blue-black hair, with a passing motion that dispelled some of the doubt within her. She smiled wanly. Her round, young breast rose and fell with the rustle of perfumed laces. She swished her lavender gown behind her with a turn of a white, supple wrist upon which was a tiny, diamond-studded watch of superior make. "Courage!" said Drew. "Have courage! They won't get you!" "They--they," she breathed. "They have threatened me like they threatened poor father. They sent a letter. Oh, I wish I were a man!" Drew flushed beneath his olive cheeks. He reached upward and turned down his overcoat collar. He laid his hat on a chair, braced his shoulders, and stared around the room. His eyes wandered from the walls to the inner opening. "Who's in there?" he asked. "Harry--Harry Nichols. I telephoned for him. I was afraid. I admit I'm afraid, Mr. Drew. You know what they did to father?" "Yes, I know. It was an error on my part. We did not take the proper precautions. But this time--we will!" "I hope you do. I don't feel like myself, after last night. It came so suddenly. I heard you people talking in the lower hallway. I went to the bannisters and saw all the servants at the library door. And then--and then, I went down without a particle of warning. It was a shock, Mr. Drew." "One I could have spared you," admitted the detective. "It was preventable," he added, turning toward Delaney.