At the office a surprise awaited him. His clerk, a dry-as-dust, lean old fellow, as silent and wise-looking as an owl, met him in the outer room with a mysterious face and informed him that a lady had been waiting an hour for the appearance of Nemo. She had refused to give any name, and had declared her intention of remaining until she saw the detective. Vernon, in his business capacity, was used to people who came and went without giving names, as their business was generally shady, so he did not pay much attention to the matter. Hanging up his coat and hat and laying aside his gloves and cane, he passed into the inner room. Then he received the surprise aforesaid. His client was none other than Lady Corsoon herself. She arose, perfectly self-possessed, and did not appear to be surprised to see the young man. "How are you, Mr. Vernon?" she asked, holding out a gracious hand, "or perhaps I should call you Nemo here--Mr. Nemo." Vernon, violently red and inwardly greatly upset by this recognition, accepted the gloved hand timidly. "How did you find out that I----" "Oh, your enemy told me," finished Lady Corsoon, sitting down. "My enemy?" stammered the unfortunate man nervously. "Mr. Constantine Maunders, who----" Vernon interrupted her and struck a hard blow on the table. His eyes flashed dangerously. "Then, in spite of his promise, he told you what I so much desired to keep secret?" "Yes," said Lady Corsoon drily. "It was his desire to put me against you, so that he could philander with my daughter. But his shot failed to hit the mark. I was delighted to hear that you were Nemo; I have heard something of Nemo's doings and cleverness, and so the information brought me here, as you see." "To forbid me your house?" "I asked you to afternoon tea to-day, and that invitation was issued after your enemy betrayed you. Sit down, Mr. Nemo, and become business-like. We have much to talk about."