that his voice shook
or that his tongue faltered. But he was terrified ... She could feel
his heart thumping behind the words.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You can't see her. She's upstairs resting."

She did not know whence the resolution had come that he was not, in any
case, to see Maggie; she did not know what catastrophe she anticipated
from their meeting. She was simply resolved, as though acting under the
blind orders of some other power, that Maggie should not see him and
that he should leave the house at once.

"I must see her," he said, and the desperate urgency in his voice would
have touched any one less terrified than Grace. "I must."

"I'm sorry," she answered. The fear in his voice seemed now to give her
superiority over him. "It's impossible."

"Oh no," he said. "If she's here it can't be impossible. She'd want to
see me. We have things ... I must ... You don't understand, Miss
Trenchard."

"I only know," said Grace, "that after what occurred on your last visit
here, Mr. Cardinal, Maggie said that she would never see you again."

"That's a lie!" he said.

She made no answer. Then at last he said pitifully:

"She didn't really say that, did she?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. But you can understand after what occurred--"

He came suddenly forward, the water trickling from him on to the carpet.

"You swear that's true?"

She could see now his face and realised that he was, indeed,
desperate--breathless as though he had been running from some one.

"Yes, that's true," she answered.

"Maggie said that."

"Those were Maggie's words."

"Oh, well, I'm done ..." He turned away from her as though her
announcement had settled something about which he had been in doubt.
"It isn't like Maggie ... But still she hasn't written. She saw I was
hard up last time. All I deserve ... All I deserve." He turned round to
Grace again. "I can't quite believe it, Miss Trenchard. It doesn't
sound like Maggie, but perhaps you've influenced her ... That's likely.
If she should change her mind I'm at the 'Sea Dog.' Not much of a
place. Quiet though. Yes, well. You might tell her not to bother. I'm
finished, you see, Miss Trenchard. Yes, down. You'll be glad to hear
it, I've no doubt. Well, I mustn't stay talking. I wish Maggie were
happier though. She isn't happy, is she?"

The question was so abrupt that Grace was startled.

"I should hope so--Mr. Cardinal," she said.

"Oh, no, she isn't. I know. Always this religion she