Malcolm Sage, Detective

Norman threw herself into the task of arranging the flowers.

When Thompson arrived some ten minutes later, he stood at the doorof Malcolm Sage's room "listening with his mouth," as Gladys Normanhad expressed it. When he had regained the power of speech, heuttered two words.

"Jumping Je-hosh-o-phat!"; but into them he precipitated all theemotion of his being.

"Go away, Tommy, we're busy," cried Gladys Norman over her shoulder."Do you hear; go away," she repeated, stamping her foot angrily ashe made no movement to obey, and Thompson slid away and closed thedoor, convinced that in the course of the next half-hour there wouldbe the very deuce to pay.

He knew the Chief better than Gladys, he told himself, and if therewere one thing calculated to bring out all the sternness in hisnature it was flippancy, and what could be more flippant thandecorating the room of a great detective with huge bowls and vasesof red and white roses.

Regardless of Thompson's forebodings, Lady Dene smiled to herself asshe put the finishing touches to the last vase, whilst Gladys Normangathered up the litter of leaves and stalks that lay on the floor, throwing them into the fireplace. She then removed the last spots ofwater from Malcolm Sage's table.

Lady Dene took from her bag a small leather-case, which she openedand placed in the centre of the table opposite Malcolm Sage's chair.It was a platinum ring of antique workmanship, with a carbuchon oflapis lazuli.

"Oh, how lovely!" cried Gladys Norman, as she gazed at the ring'sexquisite workmanship.

Presently, the two girls stepped back to gaze at their handiwork. Ina few minutes they had transformed an austere, business-man's roominto what looked like a miniature rose-show. From every point redand white roses seemed to nod their fragrant heads.

"I – " began Gladys Norman, then she stopped suddenly, arrested bya slight sound behind her. She span round on her heel. Malcolm Sagestood in the doorway, with Thompson and William Johnson a few feetbehind him.

Slowly and deliberately he looked round the room; then his eyesrested on Lady Dene.

"How do you do, Lady Dene," he said quietly, extending his hand.

For a moment she was conscious of an unaccustomed sensation of fear.

"You're not cross?" she interrogated, looking up at him quizzically, her head a little on one side. "You see, it's the Bureau's birthday, and – " She stopped suddenly.

Malcolm Sage had dropped her hand and walked over to his table.

Picking up the ring he examined it intently, then turned to Lady

Dene, interrogation in his eyes.

"It's from my husband and me," she said simply. "You have suchlovely hands, and – and we should like you to wear it."

Without a word he removed the ring from the case and put it on thethird finger of his right hand, which he then extended to Lady Dene, who took it with a little laugh of happiness.

"You're not really cross," she said, looking up at him a littleanxiously.

"To me they stand for so much, Lady Dene," he said gravely, "that Iam not even speculating as to their probable effect upon the faithof my clients."

And Malcolm Sage smiled.

It was that smile Gladys Norman saw as she closed the door behindher, and which Thompson resolutely refused to believe.

notes

1

See John Dene of Toronto for the story of how Malcolm Sagefrustrated the enemies of Sir John Dene.