something of Lady Dawn's grave
honesty in their expression. "I think he has realized."

"Thank you, sir; and I'm sorry I had to trouble you."

She withdrew, leaving him with the disturbing sense that she had
intended more than she had said. He gathered up the paper from the floor
in the hope that a perusal of it might enable him to recover his lost
equanimity. In so doing he caught sight of the last page, which
contained the photographic items. Braithwaite's face stared up at him.
Above it was printed the caption, "_Youngest Ranker Brigadier Demobbed
Yesterday_."

If she had seen that, she knew. If she had seen it, what would be her
next move--appeal or revenge? What had been the significance of her
final question, "Does your Lordship think he has realized?" Did she know
now; had she even known when she had written her letter that it would be
received by Braithwaite himself?

If she didn't know and had not seen the paper, he was determined that
she should not see it. Before leaving the room, he stuffed it into the
empty grate and applied a match. He would play fair by Braithwaite. He
was so eager to play fair that he did not turn to go upstairs till every
vestige of print had been licked to ashes.

VI

His library occupied the whole of the second story; even at that it was
not very large. It had two long French windows, opening onto a veranda
which looked out over the Square. The veranda was constructed of wrought
iron, painted green, and ran straight across the front of the house. Ann
used it for giving her plants an airing; they usually formed a truant
garden beyond the panes. There was a smaller window at the back, from
which a view could be obtained of the Oratory.

The room was furnished in English red lacquer, which had been
transferred from the collection at Taborley House, when Taborley House
had been lent to the Americans for a military hospital. The walls were
hung with landscapes by Zuccarelli and with Chinese portrait-groups of
the Eighteenth Century.

He had scarcely entered before the telephone renewed its irritating
clamor, like a fretful child which yelled whenever it heard his
footstep. He responded to its fretfulness in very much the same mood,
seizing hold of the receiver as though he would shake it into silence.

"Yes. Hullo! Hullo! Yes, this is Lord Taborley. What's that? You didn't
catch what I---- It's Lord Taborley speaking, I said."

"Well, I must say you don't sound very nice." It