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Rh But, good God! How has he found out? How has he found out?"

"I don't know!" moaned Naîda. "Oh, I am frightened—so frightened!"

A discreet rap sounded upon the door.

Nicol Brinn crossed and stood, hands clasped behind him, before the mantelpiece. "In," he said.

Hoskins entered. "Detective Sergeant Stokes wishes to see you at once, sir."

Brinn drew a watch from his waistcoat pocket. Attached to it was a fob from which depended a little Chinese Buddha. He consulted the timepiece and returned it to his pocket.

"Eight-twenty-five," he muttered, and glanced across to where Naîda, wide-eyed, watched him. "Admit Detective Sergeant Stokes at eight-twenty-six, and then lock the door."

"Very good, sir."

Hoskins retired imperturbably.