o."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Holland. I might have starved to death
years ago."

"I wish to God you had," said Geoffrey.

McVay shook his head faintly in deprecation of such violence, but
otherwise preferred to pass the remark by, and they soon set to work
heating soup and smoked beef. When all was ready and spread in the
dining-room--this was McVay's suggestion; he said food was unappetising
unless it were nicely served--Geoffrey said:

"Go and see if your sister is awake, and if she is," he added firmly,
"I'll give you a few minutes alone with her, so that you can explain the
situation fully."

McVay nodded and slipped into the library. Geoffrey shut the door behind
him, and sat down on a bench in the hall from which he could command
both doors.

If he entertained the doubts of her innocence which he continually told
himself no sane man could help entertaining, he found himself strangely
nervous. He felt as if he were waiting outside an operating room. He
thought of her as he had seen her asleep, of the curve of her eye-lashes
on her cheek, of her raising those lashes, awaking to be met with
McVay's revelations. Even if she were guilty, Geoffrey found it in his
heart to pity her waking to learn that her brother was a prisoner. How
unfortunate, too, would be her own position,--the guest, if only for a
few hours, of a man who was concerned only to lodge her brother in jail.

His heart gave a distinct thump when the library door opened and they
came out together. His eyes turned to her face at once, and found it
unperturbed. Didn't she care, or had she always known?

McVay caught his arm when she had passed them by, and whispered glibly:

"Thought it was better to wait until she had had something to eat--shock
on an empty stomach, so bad--so hard to bear."

Geoffrey shook his arm free. "You infernal coward," he whispered back.

"Well, I like that," retorted McVay, "you didn't tell her yourself when
you had the chance."

"It wasn't my affair. I did not tell her because--"

"Oh, I know," McVay interrupted with a chuckle. "I've been knowing why
for the last ten minutes."

They followed her into the dining-room.

It was not a sumptuous repast to which they sat down, but Geoffrey asked
nothing better. He was sitting opposite to her,--a position evidently
decreed him by Fate from the beginning of time. He could look at her,
and now and then, in spite of her delicious reluctance, could force her
to meet