nders about and meets the
girl one afternoon and under the sway of a strong feeling forgets his
shyness. This is no supposition. It is a fact. There was such a
meeting in which the shyness must have perished before we don't know
what encouragement, or in the community of mood made apparent by some
casual word. You remember that Mrs Fyne saw them one afternoon coming
back to the cottage together. Don't you think that I have hit on the
psychology of the situation?..."

"Doubtless..." I began to ponder.

"I was very certain of my conclusions at the time," Marlow went on
impatiently. "But don't think for a moment that Mrs Fyne in her new
attitude and toying thoughtfully with a teaspoon was about to surrender.
She murmured:--

"It's the last thing I should have thought could happen."

"You didn't suppose they were romantic enough," I suggested dryly.

She let it pass and with great decision but as if speaking to herself,
"Roderick really must be warned."

She didn't give me the time to ask of what precisely. She raised her
head and addressed me.

"I am surprised and grieved more than I can tell you at Mr Fyne's
resistance. We have been always completely at one on every question.
And that we should differ now on a point touching my brother so closely
is a most painful surprise to me." Her hand rattled the teaspoon
brusquely by an involuntary movement. "It is intolerable," she added
tempestuously--for Mrs Fyne that is. I suppose she had nerves of her
own like any other woman.

Under the porch where Fyne had sought refuge with the dog there was
silence. I took it for a proof of deep sagacity. I don't mean on the
part of the dog. He was a confirmed fool.

I said:

"You want absolutely to interfere...?" Mrs Fyne nodded just
perceptibly... "Well--for my part ... but I don't really know how
matters stand at the present time. You have had a letter from Miss de
Barral. What does that letter say?"

"She asks for her valise to be sent to her town address," Mrs Fyne
uttered reluctantly and stopped. I waited a bit--then exploded.

"Well! What's the matter? Where's the difficulty? Does your husband
object to that? You don't mean to say that he wants you to appropriate
the girl's clothes?"

"Mr Marlow!"

"Well, but you talk of a painful difference of opinion with your
husband, and then, when I ask for information on the point, you bring
out a valise. And only a few moments ago you reproached me f