as come between us."

For a moment she found it difficult to answer. At last she said:

"Well, there _is_ something, I admit; something that claims all my
time. I am sorry I cannot tell you more, for it is not my own secret."

"I see--it belongs to another."

Evidently Sophy had discovered the truth at last--a truth that was
withering her youth and crushing her to the earth. His quick eye
understood the signs of strain and fatigue; all life and light had
faded from her face, and he realised that she was, as Fuchsia had
described, "terribly changed."

For a moment neither of them spoke; she fidgeted with a turquoise
ring--it was much too loose, or her fingers were much too thin, for it
suddenly slipped, dropped into her lap and then rolled far away upon
the floor with an air of impudent independence.

Shafto, as he searched for and picked up this ring, felt something
forcing and driving him to speak and, after a moment's reflection, he
made up his mind to dare all.

"I believe I know your secret," was his bold announcement, as he
restored her property.

"You!" she ejaculated. "That is impossible."

"At least, I can guess," he said, dropping his voice.

Then he got up and, standing before her with his hands in his pockets,
looked down at her steadily and continued:

"It has to do with a drug."

At the word drug she winced visibly, and her pale face changed.

"The drug is cocaine," he went on slowly, "and the victim is--a lady in
this house."

Sophy's white cheeks were now aflame; bright tears stood in her eyes;
she was passing through a painful crisis. To assent would amount to a
betrayal. Should she put him off with a _lie_? There seemed to be an
interminable pause before she spoke.

"Why do you say this to me?" she asked in a low voice.

"FitzGerald has means of finding out curious facts, and sometimes he
tumbles into a thing by accident; he is mad keen to scotch this cocaine
business, and incidentally discovered that one of Ah Shee's best
customers was--_you know who_. She has been procuring the stuff for
the last three years. I believe you have only recently found out the
hideous fact, and this accounts for what anyone can see with half an
eye--your look of care and anxiety. I am well aware that I have
undertaken a dangerous mission in coming here to tell you this.
Possibly you may never speak to me again; but I take the risk, because
I do want so very, very badly to be of some use and to