"You look," he told her fondly, "like a girl who has just realised for the first time in her life that she is loved."
"How strange," she laughed happily,—"because that is exactly how I feel!"
There was a knock at the door. A page entered, swinging a key in his hand.
"Key of 440 for the lady, sir," he announced.
"Quite right, my boy. Listen. Did you meet any one in the corridor?"
"No one, sir."
"You haven't been in here before without knocking, have you?"
"No, sir," was the prompt reply. "I came straight up in the lift."
Wingate turned to Josephine with a little shrug of the shoulders.
"The mystery, then, is insoluble," he declared cheerfully, "but remember this, sweetheart," he added, as the boy stepped discreetly outside, "in small things as well as large, the troubles of this world for you are ended."