THE GRACIOUSNESS OF THE DUKE At a quarter-past three that afternoon I was ushered into the presence of the Duke of Rowchester.

I had never seen him before, and his personality at once interested me.

He was a small man, grey-haired, keen-eyed, clean shaven.

He received me in a somewhat bare apartment, which he alluded to as his workroom, and I found him seated before a desk strewn with papers.

He rose immediately at my entrance, and I could feel that he was taking more than usual note of my appearance.
"You are Mr.Ducaine," he said, holding out his hand.