"It's good of you," she said slowly; "but why are you doing it?"
"Can't say," I answered lightly.
"Well, good-bye, and God bless you!" She put out her hand. "There's nothing I can say or do to—"
"Oh, yes, by the way, there is," I interrupted, tugging a key off my chain. "You see this? It unlocks the drawers of a writing-table in your room. In the top left-hand drawer you will find a bundle of papers."
She passed up the stair before me and into the room. "Is this what you want?" she asked, reappearing after a minute with my manuscript in her hand. "What is it? A new comedy?"
"The makings of one," said I. "It was to fetch it that I came across from Ambleteuse."
"And dropped into another."
"Upon my word," said I, "you are right, and to-night's is a better one—up to a point."
"What are you going to call it?"
"My Tenant."