He had scarcely rung the bell before a slightly parted curtain in the front room fell together, and a moment later the door was opened by a man in the livery of a butler, but with the face and physique of a prize-fighter.
"Lady of the house," Quest demanded.

"Want to see the lady of the house." Almost immediately he was conscious of a woman standing in the hall before him.

She was quietly but handsomely dressed; her hair was grey; her smile, although a little peculiar, was benevolent.
"You had better come in," she invited.

"Please do not stand in the doorway." Quest, however, who heard the footsteps of the others behind him, loitered there for a moment.
"You're the lady whose name is on this piece of paper ?" he demanded.

"This place is all right, eh ?" "I really do not know what you mean," the woman replied coldly, "but if you will come inside, I will talk to you in the drawing-room." Quest, as though stumbling against the front-door, had it now wide open, and in a moment the hall seemed full.