Well--Copplestone, we'd better meet in the morning at Petherton's.

You be there at ten o'clock, and I'll get Sir Cresswell Oliver to be there, too." Copplestone betook himself to his rooms in Jermyn Street; it seemed an age--several ages--since he had last seen the familiar things in them.
During the few days which had elapsed since his hurried setting-off to meet Bassett Oliver so many things had happened that he felt as if he had lived a week in a totally different world.

He had met death, and mystery, and what appeared to be sure evidence of deceit and cunning and perhaps worse--fraud and crime blacker than fraud.

But he had also met Audrey Greyle.

And it was only natural that he thought more about her than of the strange atmosphere of mystery which wrapped itself around Scarhaven.