velope. "Fleda
Vetch," it ran, "is at 10 Raphael Road, West Kensington. Go to see her,
and try, for God's sake, to cultivate a glimmer of intelligence." When
in handing it back to him she took in his face she saw that its
heightened color was the effect of his watching her read such an
allusion to his want of wit. Fleda knew what it was an allusion to, and
his pathetic air of having received this buffet, tall and fine and kind
as he stood there, made her conscious of not quite concealing her
knowledge. For a minute she was kept silent by an angered sense of the
trick that had been played her. It was a trick because Fleda considered
there had been a covenant; and the trick consisted of Mrs. Gereth's
having broken the spirit of their agreement while conforming in a
fashion to the letter. Under the girl's menace of a complete rupture she
had been afraid to make of her secret the use she itched to make; but in
the course of these days of separation she had gathered pluck to hazard
an indirect betrayal. Fleda measured her hesitations and the impulse
which she had finally obeyed and which the continued procrastination of
Waterbath had encouraged, had at last made irresistible. If in her
high-handed manner of playing their game she had not named the thing
hidden, she had named the hiding-place. It was over the sense of this
wrong that Fleda's lips closed tight: she was afraid of aggravating her
case by some ejaculation that would make Owen prick up his ears. A
great, quick effort, however, helped her to avoid the danger; with her
constant idea of keeping cool and repressing a visible flutter, she
found herself able to choose her words. Meanwhile he had exclaimed with
his uncomfortable laugh: "That's a good one for me, Miss Vetch, isn't
it?"

"Of course you know by this time that your mother's very sharp," said
Fleda.

"I think I can understand well enough when I know what's to be
understood," the young man asserted. "But I hope you won't mind my
saying that you've kept me pretty well in the dark about that. I've been
waiting, waiting, waiting; so much has depended on your news. If you've
been working for me I'm afraid it has been a thankless job. Can't she
say what she'll do, one way or the other? I can't tell in the least
where I am, you know. I haven't really learnt from you, since I saw you
there, where _she_ is. You wrote me to be patient, and upon my soul I
have been. But I'm afraid you don't quite realize what I'm to b