Fred M. White 
The Edge of the Sword 

LIONEL HARVEY turned over the card with fingers that trembled slightly. There was nothing that he hated more than being disturbed in his study hours, when he was on one of his stories, and he had given strict orders that he was not to be disturbed.The maid stammered something in the way of an apology. ‚I—I’m very sorry, sir, ‚ she said. ‚But the lady seemed so disappointed when I told her that you never saw anybody in the morning. She said it was a matter of life and death, that she must see you, that you would be angry if she went away, and—and, sir, she is such a beautiful young lady.“I know that, ‚ Harvey said, absently. ‚Seeing that—but no matter. Did she ask for me by name or under my pseudonym of Rodney Payne?“Well, sir, she called you Mr. Payne. And, of course, I knew she meant you. She said she had managed to get your address from the Daily Record Office. She said, too, that she would be quite a stranger to you.‘