ll day, but couldn't get it in.
If I lived where you do, I should keep a pretty sharp look-out. I caught
an old brute of a moonstone-seller (at least that's what he called
himself) prowling about your place only last night, and kicked him off
the premises."

Nick stood still. His eyes flickered very rapidly as he faced Noel in
the dimness. "Awfully obliged to you, my son," he said, and in his
cracked voice there sounded a desire to laugh. "But that poor old seller
of moonstones happens to be a very particular friend of mine. You
needn't kick him again."

"What?" said Noel. "That mangy old cur a friend of yours?"

"He isn't mangy," said Nick. "And he's been very useful to me in one way
and another; will be again, I daresay."

"My dear chap," Noel protested, "you don't mean to say you trust those
people? You shouldn't really. It's madness. They are treachery
incarnate, one and all."

Nick laughed flippantly. "Even treachery is a useful quality
sometimes," he declared, as he turned to go. "Don't you worry yourself,
my boy. I can walk on cat's ice as well as anyone I know."

He was gone, humming his favourite waltz as he departed; and Noel turned
back to his partner with a grunt of discontent.

"He'll play that game once too often if he isn't careful," he said.

"Is there really any danger?" Olga asked.

"I should say so," he answered, "but it seems I am of no account."

"Oh, he didn't mean that," she said quickly.

He looked at her. "He is not the only person who thinks so, Olga."

She slipped a friendly hand on to his arm. "Noel," she said, "you don't
think I think so, do you?"

He laid his hand on hers and pressed it silently. They stood together in
the semi-darkness, isolated for the moment, very intimately alone.

"Noel," Olga whispered at length, a tremor of distress in the words,
"you mustn't think that; please--please, you must never think that!"

He moved a little, stooped to her. "Olga," he said, speaking quickly,
"I'm not blaming you. You couldn't help it. It's just my damned luck.
But--if I'd met you--first--I'd have won you!"

The words came hot and passionate. His hand gripped hers with
unconscious force. She made no attempt to free herself. Neither did she
contradict him, for she knew that he spoke the truth.

Only, after a moment, she said, looking up at him, "I'm so dreadfully
sorry."

"You couldn't help it," he reiterated almost savagely. "Anyhow you're
happy; so I ought to be satisfi