But when the next night came Hetherwick's plans about the visit to Vivian's were frustrated by an unexpected happening, and neither he nor Matherfield as much as crossed the threshold of the night-club in Candlestick Passage. They went there at ten o'clock: that, said Matherfield, was a likely hour—between then and eleven-thirty the place would be full of its habitual frequenters: the notion was to mingle unobtrusively with whatever crowd chanced to be there and to keep eyes and ears open for whatever happened to transpire.
Candlestick Passage, unfamiliar to Hetherwick until that evening, proved to be one of the many narrow alleys which open out of St. Martin's Lane in the neighbourhood of the theatres. It wore a very commonplace, not to say shabby complexion, and there was nothing in its atmosphere to suggest adventure or romance. Not was there anything alluring about the entrance to Vivian's, which was merely a wide, double doorway, ornamented by two evergreen shrubs set in tubs and revealing swing-doors within, and a carpeted staircase beyond. Hetherwick and Matherfield, however, never reached swing-doors or staircase: as they approached the outer entrance a tall woman emerged, and without so much as a look right or left turned down the passage towards the street. She paid no attention to the two men as she walked quickly past them—but Hetherwick softly seized his companion's arm.
"Lady Riversreade, by all that's wonderful!" he exclaimed under his breath. "That woman!"
Matherfield turned sharply, gazing after the retreating figure.
"That," he said incredulously, "coming out of here? Certain?"
"Dead sure!" affirmed Hetherwick. "I knew her at once—I'd had a particularly good look at her, yesterday. That's she!"
"What's she doing at Vivian's?" muttered Matherfield. "Queer, that!"
"But she's going away from it," said Hetherwick. "Come on!—let's see where she goes. We can easily come back here. But why not follow her first?"
"Good!" agreed Matherfield. "Come on then! easily keep her in sight."
Lady Riversreade at that moment was turning out of the passage, to her left hand. When the two men emerged from it, she was already several yards ahead, going towards St. Martin's Church. Her tall figure made her good to follow, but Matherfield kept Hetherwick back; no use, he said, in pressing too closely on your quarry.