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234 chance of a useful hint. The Embankment story both amused and puzzled him.

He dismissed the subject to its proper mental pigeonhole and had turned to deal with his most confidential correspondence when something very like an altercation breaking the chaste decorum of his outer office caused him to stop and frown. The next moment there was a hurrying step outside, the door was snatched open and Mr Enniscorthy, pale and distracted, stumbled into the room. Behind him appeared the indignant face of Mr Carlyle's chief clerk. Then the visitor extinguished the outraged vision by flinging back the door as he went forward.

"Have you seen the papers?" he demanded. "Is there anything dreadful in them?"

"I have seen the papers, yes," replied the puzzled agent. "I am not aware"

"I mean the evening papers—just out. No, I see you haven't. Here, read that and tell me. I haven't—I dare not look."

Mr Carlyle took the journal that Enniscorthy thrust under his eyes—it was the earliest Star—glanced into his visitor's face a little severely and then focussed the the [sic] column.

"Good heavens!" he exclaimed, "what is this! 'MISSING ACTRESS. EMBANKMENT CLUE. BODY FOUND!'"

"Ah!" groaned Enniscorthy. "That was on the bills. Is it?"

"It's all right, it's all right, my dear sir," reported Mr Carlyle, glancing along the lines. "This is the body of a man . . . the man who was seen . . . most extraordinary . . ."

"My God!" was wrung from the distressed young