Emerson might, with some reason, have pointed out that I had not been included in the invitation. Instead he replied with a remark to the effect that if I meant to make an issue of it, he would delay his visit. His tone was so emphatic and the number of swear words he used so numerous that I could not doubt his asseveration. “I will just take a little stroll and renew old acquaintances,” he said. “Will you be all right alone?”

I looked at him in surprise. “Of course, my dear. What could possibly happen to me here?”

Sponge, towels, and soap in hand, I made my way to the bath chamber and filled the tub. The wisps of steam rising from the water and the scented bubbles called to me with a siren song. I sank into the water with a sigh of contentment.

In past years, when accommodations at Shepheard’s were in great demand, some of the commodious bath chambers had been converted into temporary bedrooms, with doors opening onto the hallway. I had not given the matter much thought until a hitherto unobserved door gave way and a large man burst in.

He did not see me at first, since the tub was in an alcove out of the line of sight of someone standing in the doorway, so I had ample time to observe him as he turned ponderously from side to side. Heavily built, with large calloused hands and coarse features, he was neatly dressed in a tweed coat and trousers, except for one singular feature—a gold-rimmed monocle in his left eye.

I was unarmed, having assumed it was unnecessary to carry weapons into the bath chamber. I have always been of the opinion that the best defense is a prompt and vigorous attack, but my current position rendered certain options untenable. My only weapons were a bar of soap, a sponge, and a towel. Thanks to the scented soap bubbles I was more or less covered, which would not be the case should I rise to my feet. I was still considering strategies when the man advanced farther into the room and caught sight of me. His arms rose, his fingers curled in a most menacing fashion as he gave me a cruel (and somewhat demented) smile. “You!”

“Sir,” I said in my iciest tones, “you were perhaps unaware that this room was already occupied. Kindly remove yourself at once.”

His response was as remarkable as his sudden appearance. Touching one hand to his throat, he gasped, “Murder!” and collapsed onto the floor.

The suffragi appeared in the doorway, eyes staring and mouth agape. It is the duty of these fellows to patrol the hallways, directing visitors to the proper room and preventing guests from annoyance. Obviously Ali’s performance in this latter matter was not up to his usual standards.