I've heard Gerard's," slowly pronounced
Mr. Rose. "I haven't heard yours, yet. Nor I haven't learned that anyone
has. What wrecked Gerard's car?"

There was no answer. Corrie's breathing quickened slightly, but he
neither moved nor spoke, nor lifted his eyes to the two who watched him.
After moments, Mr. Rose put out his hand and pushed away a tinted
electric lamp from which the light fell too strongly on his face.

"Rupert isn't lying," he asserted. "He might be crazy. If he is, say
so. I saw your nickel wrench picked up, myself, and a dozen people along
the line saw you and Gerard racing just before the smash. Where is your
mechanician, Dean? What has he got to say? It looks bad, your hiding
him."

"He was not with me," Corrie replied, his voice oddly smothered.

"Not with you? Rupert talks of seeing him beside you in the car."

"Rupert is mistaken. Dean was not yet out at the course and I started
alone. Ask the men at my camp and the race officials; they will tell you
that I took out my machine without a mechanician."

"Then Rupert is crazy? Gerard told the truth? Speak out! Are you afraid
or sulky?"

This time the lash took effect. Corrie moved sharply and spoke.

"I am not going to talk," he declared definitely. "Nor ought you to ask
it of me, sir. If you don't know how I loved Allan Gerard, if you can't
feel that I would rather have killed myself than hurt him and would have
turned my car against a stone wall sooner than see to-day, there is no
use of my saying it. I don't care what anyone thinks or says. I stood
the worst that can come to me when I helped his surgeons to-day and
heard him clear me----I'm going to my room; you needn't fear I'll run
away."

Mr. Rose was across the room before his son could leave it, gripping the
satin-clad shoulder.

"You'll keep what Gerard lied to give you," he promised with inexorable
menace. "And that's what is left of your reputation. You'll neither run
nor skulk in your room; you'll go dress for dinner and come down here
and eat it. We'll have no scenes. The medicine you have got to take is
nothing to the black dose Gerard has to swallow."

"Papa!" Flavia appealed, unheard.

"Yes, sir," Corrie answered simply.

On the wide landing of the staircase Flavia overtook her brother. There
was just one thing she could say to him, must and would always have to
say whatever his faults or the rest of the world's condemnation.

"I love you," she panted, clasping her litt