She must change the locks without delay

But was it a coincidence that the same key opened her door and the doctor's? If it were so, it was an embarrassing coincidence. She must change the locks without delay. The bus set her down at the corner of Punsonby's great block. Punsonby's is one of the most successful and at the same time one of the most exclusive dress-houses in London, and Oliva had indeed been fortunate in securing her present position, for employment at Punsonby's was almost equal to Government employment in its permanency, as it was certainly more lucrative in its pay. As she stepped on to the pavement she glanced up at the big ornate clock. She was in good time, she said to herself, and was pushing open the big glass door through which employees pass to the various departments when a hand touched her gently on the arm. She turned in surprise to face Mr. Beale, looking particularly smart in a well-fitting grey suit, a grey felt hat and a large bunch of violets in his buttonhole. "Excuse me, Miss Cresswell," he said pleasantly, "may I have one word with you?" She looked at him doubtfully. "I rather wish you had chosen another time and another place, Mr. Beale," she said frankly. He nodded. "I realize it is rather embarrassing," he said, "but unfortunately my business cannot wait. I am a business man, you know," he smiled, "in spite of my dissolute habits." She looked at him closely, for she thought she detected a gentle mockery behind his words, but he was not smiling now. "I won't keep you more than two minutes," he went on, "but in that two minutes I have a great deal to tell you. I won't bore you with the story of my life." This time she saw the amusement in his eyes and smiled against her will, because she was not feeling particularly amused. "I have a business in the city of London," he said, "and again I would ask you to respect my confidence. I am a wheat expert." "A wheat expert?" she repeated with a puzzled frown.