r brother
was--somewhat intimate."

"Did you know her?" thrust in Noel.

Hunt-Goring looked at the end of his cigarette with a thoughtful smile.
"Yes, I knew her rather well. I was not, however, prepared to lend my
name to cloak a scandal--even to oblige your brother who had transferred
his attentions to Miss Olga, so he had to take his own measures." He
looked up with a glitter of malice in his eyes. "The girl died," he
said, "rather suddenly. That's all the story."

It was received in a dead silence that lasted for the breathless passage
of a dozen seconds. Then: "You--skunk!" said Noel.

He did not raise his voice to say it, but there was that in his tone
that was more emphatic than violence. It warned Hunt-Goring of danger as
surely as the growl of a tiger. His lazy complacence suddenly gave place
to alertness. He straightened himself up. But even then he had not the
sense to refrain from his abominable laugh.

"I've noticed," he said, "that present-day puppies are greater at
snarling than fighting. I told you this story because you asked for it.
Now I'll tell you one you didn't ask for. Max Wyndham transferred his
attentions to Olga Ratcliffe, not because he cared for her, but because
he wanted to put a spoke in my wheel. Little Olga and I were very thick
at one time. You didn't know that, I daresay?"

"I don't believe it!" said Noel, breathing heavily.

Hunt-Goring inhaled a deep breath of smoke and blew it forth again in
gentle puffs. "Ah! She never told you that? She was always a secretive
young woman. Yes, we had some very jolly times together on the sly, till
one day the doctor-fellow caught us kissing under the apple-trees. Then
of course she was afraid he'd split, so it was all up." He smiled
insolently into Noel's blazing eyes. "I flatter myself that she missed
those stolen kisses," he said. "I must go round one of these days--when
the dragon is out of ear-shot--and make up for it."

That loosed the devil in Noel at last. He took a swift step forward. His
right hand gripped his riding-whip.

"If you ever go near her again," he said, "I'll break every bone in your
body! You liar--you damned blackguard--you cur!"

Full into Hunt-Goring's face he hurled his furious words. He was more
angry in that moment than he had ever been in his life. The force of his
anger carried him along as a twig borne on a racing current. Till that
instant he had forgotten that he carried his riding-whip. The sudden
remem