kely that I should appeal to you if I were in
difficulties.'

He stood silent, glad of the obscurity which made it needless for him to
command his features. At length:

'What is the simple fact? Has your secret been discovered, or not?'

'How does it concern you?'

'Only in this way: that if you are to be dependent upon any one, it must
be upon me.'

Nancy gave a scornful laugh.

'That's very generous, considering your position. But happily you can't
force me to accept your generosity, any more than I can compel you to
take a share of my money.'

'Without the jibe at my poverty,' Tarrant said, 'that is a sufficient
answer. As we can't even pretend to be friendly with each other, I
am very glad there need be no talk of our future relations. You are
provided for, and no doubt will take care not to lose the provision.
If ever you prefer to forget that we are legally bound, I shall be no
obstacle.'

'I have thought of that,' replied Nancy, after a pause, her voice
expressing satisfaction. 'Perhaps we should do better to make the
understanding at once. You are quite free; I should never acknowledge
you as my husband.'

'You seriously mean it?'

'Do I seem to be joking?'

'Very well. I won't say that I should never acknowledge you as my wife;
so far from that, I hold myself responsible whenever you choose to make
any kind of claim upon me. But I shall not dream of interfering with
your liberty. If ever you wish to write to me, you may safely address
to the house at Champion Hill.--And remember always,' he added sternly,
'that it was not I who made such a parting necessary.'

Nancy returned his look through the gloom, and said in like tone:

'I shall do my best never to think of it at all. Fortunately, my time
and my thoughts are occupied.'

'How?' Tarrant could not help asking, as she turned away; for her tone
implied some special significance in the words.

'You have no right to ask anything whatever about me,' came from Nancy,
who was already moving away.

He allowed her to go.

'So it is to be as I wished,' he said to himself, with mock courage. 'So
much the better.'

And he went home to a night of misery.

CHAPTER 6

Not long after the disappearance of Fanny French, Mrs. Damerel called
one day upon Luckworth Crewe at his office in Farringdon Street. Crewe
seldom had business with ladies, and few things could have surprised him
more than a visit from this lady in particular, whom he knew