CHAPTER XXVIII

A MIDNIGHT VISITOR "Wolf! Wolf!" Wolfenden, to whom sleep before the early morning hours was a thing absolutely impossible, was lounging in his easy chair meditating on the events of the day over a final cigarette. He had come to his room at midnight in rather a dejected frame of mind; the day's happenings had scarcely gone in his favour. Helene had looked upon him coldly--almost with suspicion. In the morning he would be able to explain everything, but in the meantime Blanche was upon the spot, and he had an uneas…