ch other. Mr.
Moy answered for both.

"We don't presume to restrain you, Sir Patrick, by other limits than
those which, as a gentleman, you impose on yourself. Subject," added
the cautious Scotchman, "to the right of objection which we have already
reserved."

"Do you object to my speaking to your client?" asked Sir Patrick.

"To Mr. Geoffrey Delamayn?"

"Yes."

All eyes turned on Geoffrey. He was sitting half asleep, as it
seemed--with his heavy hands hanging listlessly over his knees, and his
chin resting on the hooked handle of his stick.

Looking toward Anne, when Sir Patrick pronounced Geoffrey's name, Mr.
Moy saw a change in her. She withdrew her hands from her face, and
turned suddenly toward her legal adviser. Was she in the secret of the
carefully concealed object at which his opponent had been aiming from
the first? Mr. Moy decided to put that doubt to the test. He invited
Sir Patrick, by a gesture, to proceed. Sir Patrick addressed himself to
Geoffrey.

"You are seriously interested in this inquiry," he said; "and you have
taken no part in it yet. Take a part in it now. Look at this lady."

Geoffrey never moved.

"I've seen enough of her already," he said, brutally.

"You may well be ashamed to look at her," said Sir Patrick, quietly.
"But you might have acknowledged it in fitter words. Carry your memory
back to the fourteenth of August. Do you deny that you promised to many
Miss Silvester privately at the Craig Fernie inn?"

"I object to that question," said Mr. Moy. "My client is under no sort
of obligation to answer it."

Geoffrey's rising temper--ready to resent any thing--resented his
adviser's interference. "I shall answer if I like," he retorted,
insolently. He looked up for a moment at Sir Patrick, without moving his
chin from the hook of his stick. Then he looked down again. "I do deny
it," he said.

"You deny that you have promised to marry Miss Silvester?"

"Yes."

"I asked you just now to look at her--"

"And I told you I had seen enough of her already."

"Look at _me._ In my presence, and in the presence of the other persons
here, do you deny that you owe this lady, by your own solemn engagement,
the reparation of marriage?"

He suddenly lifted his head. His eyes, after resting for an instant only
on Sir Patrick, turned, little by little; and, brightening slowly, fixed
themselves with a hideous, tigerish glare on Anne's face. "I know what I
owe her," he said.

The devou