es, any
ticklish job is a one-man job and I was best alone: once I got hold of
Hutton there would be no trouble with his followers. But I had no
intention of mentioning Skunk's Misery to the girl beside me; she was as
capable of following me there as of fighting wolves for me, and with no
more reason.

"It's late, and neither you nor I are going to meet Hutton to-night," I
said rather cheerlessly. "You'd better go to bed."

"I want to say something first," slowly, as if she had been thinking.
"What Macartney said to-night--that I was engaged to Dick Hutton when
Mr. Van Ruyne said I took those emeralds--wasn't true! I never was
engaged to Dick. I was sorry for him once, because I knew he did--care
for me. But I always hated him--I can't tell you how I hated him! I
didn't think I could ever love any man till--just lately."

It made me sick to know she meant Dudley. I would have blurted out that
shrinking from the mere touch of his hand was a queer way to show it;
only I was afraid to speak at all, for fear I begged her for God's sake
not to speak of love and Dudley to me! And suddenly something banged
even that out of my head. "Listen," I heard my own whisper. "Somebody's
awake--walking round!"

It was only the faintest noise, more like a rustle than a footstep, but
it sounded like Gabriel's trumpet to a man alone in the middle of the
night with a girl he had no shadow of right to. If it were Marcia,--but
I knew that second it was not Marcia, or even Dudley; though I would
rather have had his just fury than Marcia's evil thoughts and tongue.

"By gad, it's outside," I breathed. "Look out!" But suddenly I changed
my mind on it. There was only one person who could be outside, and that
was Hutton, sick of waiting for Paulette and come to look for her. I had
no desire for her to see how I met him instead, and my hands found her
shoulders in the dark. "Get back, in the corner--and don't stir!" As
she moved under my hands the faint sweet scent of her hair made me catch
my breath with a sort of fierce elation. The gold and silk of it were
not for me, I knew well enough, but at least I could keep Hutton's hands
off it. I slipped to the side of the window and stared out into the dark
shadow of the house, that lay black and square in the white moonlight.
On the edge of it was a man--and the silly elation left my heart as the
gas leaves a toy balloon when you stick a pin in it. It was not Hutton
outside. It was--for the second