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About the same time of night Von Wrangel, in his shirt sleeves, was busy arranging his specimens in the little bed-sitting-room in Pant-street. He was on the best of terms with himself, for he had lately taken two fresh specimens, and in addition he had just had a telegram from Lady Stanmere asking him to go down to-morrow to perform Mary's operation. The telegram lay on the table, and Von Wrangel had used it to mix some precipitate powder on.
-"This time to-morrow and that will be over," he said, sotto voce. "Under ordinary circumstances it would lead to fresh complications. But the tiger moth is hiding, and he can do no harm for the present, if the tiger moth had not been a fool he would have been flitting to a foreign shore by this time. I must find out and give him another warning. All the trouble I took at Stanmere the other night is not to be wasted; I spoil sport no longer. Come in."