CHAPTER XIV.
It was a little more than half an hour later when Julian ascended the steps of his club in Pall Mall and asked the hall porter for letters.
Except that he was a little paler than usual and was leaning more heavily upon his stick, there was nothing about his appearance to denote several days of intense strain.

There was a shade of curiosity, mingled with surprise, in the commissionaire's respectful greeting.
"There have been a good many enquiries for you the last few days, sir," he observed.
"I dare say," Julian replied.

"I was obliged to go out of town unexpectedly." He ran through the little pile of letters and selected a bulky envelope addressed to himself in his own handwriting.

With this he returned to the taxicab in which the Bishop and Catherine were seated.

They gazed with fascinated eyes at the packet which he was carrying and which he at once displayed.
"You see," he remarked, as he leaned back, "there is nothing so impenetrable in the world as a club of good standing.