to think very glorious.'

Carnaby growled in disgust.

'Eighteenpence be damned! Well, perhaps it'll buy her a hat. I tell
you, Rolfe, when I compare Sibyl with her mother, I almost feel she's
too good for the world. Suppose she had turned out _that_ sort of
woman! What would have been the end of it? Murder, most likely. But she
bore the loss of all her money just as she did the loss of her
jewellery and things when our house was burgled--never turned a hair.
There's a girl to be proud of, I tell you!'

He insisted upon it so vehemently that one might have imagined him in
conflict with secret doubts as to his wife's perfection.

'It's a very strange thing,' said Rolfe, looking at his wine, 'that
those thieves got clean away--not a single thing they stole ever
tracked. There can't be many such cases.'

'I have a theory about that.' Hugh half-closed his eyes, looking at
once shrewd and fierce. 'The woman herself--the housekeeper--is at this
moment going about in society, somewhere. She was no Whitechapel thief.
There's a gang organised among the people we live with. If I go out to
dine, as likely as not I sit next to a burglar or a forger, or anything
you like. The police never get on the scent, and it's the same in many
another robbery. Some day, perhaps, there'll be an astounding
disclosure, a blazing hell of a scandal--a dozen men and women marched
from Belgravia and Mayfair to Newgate. I'm sure of it! What else can
you expect of such a civilisation as ours? Well, I should know that
woman again, and if ever I find myself taking her down to dinner----'

Harvey exploded in laughter.

'I tell you I'm quite serious,' said the other angrily. 'I _know_
that's the explanation of it! There are plenty of good and honest
people still, but they can't help getting mixed up among the vilest lot
on the face of the earth. That's why I don't like my wife to make new
acquaintances. _She_ won't get any harm, but I hate to think of the
people she perhaps meets. Mackintosh was telling me of a woman in
London who keeps up a big house and entertains all sorts of people--and
her husband knows where the money comes from. He wouldn't mention her
name, because, by Jove, he had himself contributed to the expenses of
the establishment! It was three or four years ago, when he had his
money and ran through it. For all I know, Sibyl may go there--I can't
tell her about such things, and she wouldn't believe me if I did. She's
an idealist--see