Mrs. Eldredge was in the motor before the club and she wished to speak with him at once.
Trant immediately went down to the motor.
The single woman in the curtained limousine had drawn back into the farthest corner to avoid the glances of passersby. But as Trant came toward the car she leaned forward and searched his face anxiously.
She was a wonderfully beautiful woman, though her frail face bore evidences of long continued anxiety and of present excitement. Her hair was unusually rich in color; the dilated, defiant eyes were deep and flawless; the pale cheeks were clear and soft, and the trembling lips were curved and perfect. Trant, before a word had been exchanged between them, recognized the ineffable appeal of her personality.
"I must speak with you, Mr. Trant," she said, as the chauffeur at her nod, opened the door of the car. "I cannot leave the motor. You must get in."
Trant stepped quietly into the limousine, filled with the soft perfume of her presence. The chauffeur closed the door behind him, and at once started the car.
"My husband has consulted you, Mr. Trant, regarding the—the trouble that has come upon us, the—the disappearance of his son, Edward," she asked.
"Why do you not say at once, Mrs. Eldredge, that you know he has consulted me and asked me to come and examine you this afternoon? You must have learned it through his secretary."
The woman hesitated. "It is true," she said nervously. "Miss Webster telephoned me. I see that you have not forgotten that I was once my husband's
