"Christian Scientists . . . gastric trouble . . . Prescott Ellerslie? Good heavens! This comes of half doing a thing," muttered Carrados.
"Nothing wrong, I hope?" ventured the visitor.
"Wait." Severe wondered what the deuce turn the business was taking, but there being no incentive to do anything else, he waited. Coffee, rather more fragrant than that purveyed at the nocturnal stall, and fat Egyptian cigarettes of a subtle aroma somehow failed nevertheless to make the time pass quickly. Yet five minutes would have covered Carrados's absence.
"Nothing wrong, but an unfortunate oversight," he remarked when he returned. "I was too late to catch Beedel, so we must try to mend matters at the other end if we can. I shall have to ask you to go with me. I have ordered the car and I can tell you how we stand on the way."
"I shall be glad if you can make any use of me," said Severe.
"I hope that I may. And as for anything being wrong," added Carrados with deliberation, "so far as Marie is concerned I think we may find that the one thing necessary for her future welfare has been achieved."
"That's all I ask," said Severe.
"But it isn't all that I ask," retorted the blind man almost sharply.
This time there was nothing clandestine about the visit to Arling Avenue. On the contrary, the pace they kept up made it necessary that the horn should give pretty continuous notice of their presence. If it was a race, however, they had the satisfaction of being successful: the manner—more suggestive of the trained nurse than the domestic servant—of the maid who came
