te
is a transformation so complicated that it takes a cunning
psycho-analyst to interpret it. Therefore to know the importance of
your fears, I must know more about you yourself.

"We'll leave it at that--and all you need think of me at present is
that I want to serve you. But I am an old bird, while Brendon, on
the contrary, is still young; and youth understands youth. Remember
that in him you have a steadfast and faithful friend. I shan't be
jealous if you can tell him more than you can tell me."

Jenny's lips moved and were again motionless. He perceived that she
had started to say one thing, but would now say another. She took
his big hand and pressed it between her own.

"God bless you!" she said. "If I have you for a friend, I am
content. Mr. Brendon has been very good to me--very, very good. But
you are more likely to serve Uncle Albert than he."

They parted presently and Jenny returned to the house, while the
detective, finding a comfortable chair under an oleander bush,
sniffed the fragrance of the red blossom above him, regretted that
his vice had largely spoiled his sense of smell, took snuff and
opened his notebook. He wrote in it steadily for half an hour; then
he rose and joined Albert Redmayne.

The elder was full of an approaching event.

"To think that to-day you and Poggi meet!" he exclaimed. "Peter, my
dear man, if you do not love Virgilio I shall be broken-hearted."

"Albert," answered Mr. Ganns. "I have already loved Poggi for two
years. Those you love, I love; and that means that our friendship is
on a very high plane indeed; for it oftens happens that nothing
puzzles us more infernally than our friends' friends. In our case,
however, so entirely do we see alike in everything that matters,
that it is beyond possibility you should be devoted to anybody who
does not appeal to me. By the same token, how much do you love your
niece?"

Mr. Redmayne did not answer instantly.

"I love her," he replied at length, "because I love everything that
is lovely; and without prejudice I do honestly believe she is about
the loveliest young woman I have ever seen. Her face more nearly
resembles that of Botticelli's Venus than any living being in my
experience; and it is the sweetest face I know. Therefore I love her
outside very much indeed, Peter.

"But when it comes to her inside, I feel not so sure. That is
natural, for this reason, that I do not know her at all well yet. I
have seldom seen her in