Kate was sewing. The needle became her better than the typewriter. As mistress of a house she seemed to have discovered her true vocation. It may be mentioned in passing that this establishment was a success, and was already paying its way. "We don't see much of you now," said Kate. "It's not from not wanting to on my part," he said, watching her dreamily. "But a twenty-four hour day scarcely gives you time enough to play one part, let alone two or three." The sunlight behind her was making a little halo in the edges of her dark hair, and he scarcely knew what his tongue was saying. "How are things going?" she asked. The consciousness of defeat still rankled in Jack's breast; he felt a very natural desire to shine in somebody's eyes, so he said carelessly: "My net is closing around the old man. He can't escape me now. I'll gather him in, when my case is complete." "Fine!" said Kate. But Jack could not be sure there was not a faint ring of irony in her voice. He never could be sure of Kate. "All my lines are working well," he went on. "I had a glimpse of the old man to-day, but I thought it was better to let him go for awhile. I'm not sure of being able to convict him." "This morning when you left this house I believe you were followed," said Kate. Jack was not going to admit just then that there was anything he had overlooked. "Oh, I think not." "Well, I noticed a man standing at the corner looking at this house. His hat was pulled down over his eyes. As soon as you went out he disappeared." "I take precautions against being trailed," said Jack. "And I believe somebody has been tampering with the servants," Kate went on. "Yesterday I found Bessie, the upstairs girl, exhibiting entirely too much curiosity as to the arrangements of your room. I shall let her go at the end of the week." "It isn't possible they could have discovered the secret of this house," said Jack. Something told him he was talking fatuously, but a little devil of perversity held sway over him for the time being. "You know best of course," said Kate. This time he was almost sure he heard the ironical note, and he glanced at her uneasily. But the dark head was bent too low over her work for him to read her face. He felt a mighty desire to humble this cool and scornful maid, and changed his tack. "You're looking very charming to-day." "Thank you." He got up, and sat as close to her as he could pull a chair. "Go back where you were," she said calmly. "I won't!" he said masterfully. "Then I will." And she changed to the chair he had left. Jack glowered at her. "One would think I spread a contagion." "Well, you know I don't care particularly for Mr. Pitman." "That's only an excuse. It's me you don't care for." She laughed tantalizingly. Jack saw now that he had started wrong but didn't quite see how to repair the original mistake. He got up to go. He knew that if he lost his temper, he would be completely at her mercy.