I don't like the look of things at all."

Digby frowned.

"Why don't you cut the whole show?" he asked. "With your money you don't
want to waste time bothering about a business like that. Sell it and
clear out. I should, if I were in your place."

"No, you wouldn't; and I'm not going to, anyway. If they think they can
scare me into running away they're mistaken. A handful of loafers!" The
Beggar Man looked almost ugly in his obstinacy and contempt, and Digby
shrugged his shoulders and turned towards the door.

"Well, you know your own business best, of course," he said. "But if I
were you I'd cut the worry and start enjoying myself."

Forrester did not answer; there was a strange look in his eyes as he
watched his friend leave the room.

He knew well enough what was going on beneath his very eyes. He had
known before that afternoon when Peg tried to warn him, and he was
amazed because he cared so little.

In a way, it was almost a relief to know that perhaps before long the
strain of the past weeks would be lifted. Even the violence of a final
snap would be preferable to the constant nerve racking uncertainty he
had been suffering.

Disappointment and bitterness had set a wall about his heart, and he
told himself as he looked after Digby's retreating figure that he did
not care what happened.

Faith would go if she wanted to. Well, let her! He would not lift a
finger to detain her.

He turned back to his papers, and Digby crossed the hall to the
drawing-room where the two girls were sitting together in constrained
silence.

Peg had been trying to read one of her favourite novelettes, a
particularly exciting one of its kind, in which the hero had just been
confronted at the altar steps with a previous wife. But she could not
keep her thoughts on what she was reading. She was restless and unhappy.
Her nerves seemed tightly strung, as if she were waiting for something
unknown to happen.

When the door opened to admit Digby she started up with a little
exclamation, laughing nervously to hide her agitation.

"Oh, it's you? You made me jump."

Digby looked past her to where Faith sat on a low stool by the fire. He
wished there was some way of getting rid of Peg. He had never liked her,
and he knew that she disliked him as heartily.

His entrance was followed almost immediately by a knock on the door, and
Peg started up again.

"Oh, come in! Gracious! I'm all nerves to-night."

But it was only one of the