All the next day I was away in the Midlands on newspaper work, but my
mind, even when it shouldn't have been, was full of thinking about Terry
and Helen and their relationship. I couldn't escape from it; it
dominated me like an unsolved word-puzzle. What _had_ happened at the
End House on that night of the dinner to Karelsky? And what had been
happening for weeks and months before? It was, as a matter of fact,
seven years later when I found out, and as most of my conjectures were
then shown to be wrong, there doesn't seem to be much reason for setting
them down. All that need be recorded is that I returned to town late in
the evening and found this short note awaiting me:
"Of course you were right after all, and I shall always thank you for
what you did and said. I don't know what has been possessing me lately,
but I think I must have been off my head. I'm going to Vienna with
Karelsky to-night, and when I'm there I'm going to _work_. Come over and
see me as soon as you can spare time for a holiday. Yrs.,