irmly. 'I have said
that I can't believe such things of you. If you would only explain--'

'That's just what I can't do. It's as much a mystery to me as to
you--her wishing to earn money.'

'I was going to say--if you would only explain your intentions as to the
future--'

'My intentions will depend entirely on what I hear from your niece. I
shall see her as soon as possible. Perhaps you can tell me at what hour
she returns from business?'

'No, I can't. I wish you would talk a little longer.'

His eyes flashed angrily.

'Mrs. Damerel, I have said all that I am willing to say. What you have
heard is partly true; you probably won't have to wait very long for the
rest of the story, but I have no time and no inclination to tell it.
Go and see your niece to-morrow by all means,--or her guardians, if it
seems necessary.

'I am very sorry we are parting in this way.'

'You must remember how difficult it is to keep one's temper under
certain kinds of accusation.'

'I don't accuse you.'

'Well, then, to explain calmly that one couldn't commit this or that
sordid rascality;--it comes to the same thing. However, I am obliged to
you for opening my eyes. I have got into a very foolish position, and I
promise you I will get out of it as quickly as may be.'

Whereupon he bowed his leave-taking, and withdrew.

CHAPTER 8

It was not yet dark, but street-lamps had begun to flare and flicker in
the gust of a cold, damp evening. A thin and slippery mud smeared the
pavement. Tarrant had walked mechanically as far as to the top of Park
Lane before he began to consider his immediate course. Among the people
who stood waiting for omnibuses, he meditated thus:

'She may not get home until seven or half-past; then she will have a
meal. I had better put it off till about half-past eight. That leaves me
some four hours to dispose of. First of all I'll walk home, and--yes, by
all the devils! I'll finish that bit of writing. A year ago I could
no more have done it, under such circumstances, than have built a
suspension bridge. To-day I will--just to show that I've some grit in
me.'

Down Park Lane, and by Buckingham Palace across to Westminster, he kept
his thoughts for the most part on that bit of writing. Only thus could
he save himself from an access of fury which would only have injured
him--the ire of shame in which a man is tempted to beat his head against
stone walls. He composed aloud, balancing many a pretty ant