did not stop to think what effect her expression
or her action would have on this man beside her. When he questioned
the advisability of having told her that which came so near to the
whole system of her being, she let reserve go, and feelings--a pack
of sensations unleashed--raced riot across her mind, twisting her
childish face into a haggard distortion of jealousy.

"Why not?" she repeated under her breath--"Why shouldn't you have
mentioned it? Did he tell you not to?"

Before him, within the next few moments, Devenish could see the
rising of a storm, and so he set his sails, kept a clear head, talked
gently, almost beneath his breath, as if the matter were not of the
import she found it. The jealousy of women was not unknown to him.
He had met it often before; knew the tempest it called forth; had
sailed through it himself with canvas close-reefed and tiller
well-gripped in his hands. In Sally's eyes, as she branded her
question on his mind, he could discern that unnatural glint which
presages the driven action of a woman who is goaded to desperation.
For Traill's sake, for her sake also, for his own sake too, it was
essential to keep a steady head--move warily and take no risks.

"Did he tell you not to?" she asked again, before the plan of action
was settled in his mind.

"Not at all--of course not. Why should he? Besides, if he had, should
I have spoken to you about it? I thought you knew."

"No--I didn't know. How old is she--this girl?"

"About twenty-one, I suppose. Twenty-two--twenty-one."

"Is she pretty?"

Devenish screwed up his lips--lifted his shoulders.

"Is she?" she reiterated.

"Many people might not think so."

"But you do?"

"Well--I suppose--well, she's not what you'd call plain."

"Ah, you won't tell me. She is pretty--very pretty. Is she fair?"

"Yes."

"Fairer than I am?"

"Well--she has red hair, you see."

"Is her father wealthy?"

"I shouldn't think so. Of course they're by no means poor."

"He's a knight--you said."

"He's Sir--he's a baronet."

"That means the title's in the family."

"Exactly."

"Is she a nice girl? You know her--you said so."

"Oh yes, she's quite nice. Nothing very particular, nothing very
wonderful."

She looked full to his eyes, her own starved for knowledge.

"You're not telling me the truth," she exclaimed suddenly. "You're
telling me all lies. You're trying to save Jack. You know you've said
too much in telling me that he was goi