rroundings, the scene itself, excited me. I listened."

Tranter remained silent.

"I continued to listen, until Mr. Bolsover found me. He was following
that young man, Layton. I went with him to the river."

Tranter was still silent--staring straight in front of him with fixed
eyes.

"You saw a picture of weakness," he said, at last. "I am not proud of
it. I should much prefer to be able to think that no one had seen it. I
gave Inspector Fay an account of the whole scene, and of my previous
acquaintance with Christine Manderson. He promised to keep it to
himself. I hope you will do the same."

"I shall indeed," the other assured him.

"I am only human," Tranter went on, with an effort--"more human than I
thought. I resisted her once by taking flight. I couldn't resist her
to-night."

He mastered his emotion.

"From the moment she first came into the room I was helpless. I knew
what would come of it--but I couldn't tear myself away. It was the
whole spell--with all the new strength of memories. I knew she intended
to find me alone in the garden." He paused. "I had to let her."

"Human nature," said Monsieur Dupont consolingly, "is human nature."

Silence followed. Monsieur Dupont thoughtfully puffed at his cigar.

"A crooked house in a crooked garden," he said, at length, "is a
combination from which all honest people should shrink. Those who
frequent it must be, for the most part, crooked people. They were, for
the most part, crooked people to-night."

"It was a crooked evening from beginning to end," Tranter said wearily.

"It was a wicked evening," Monsieur Dupont declared--"full of wicked
thoughts. A crime was the natural and logical end to such an evening. It
would have been surprising if there had not been one."

He smoked vigorously for some moments--then made an expansive gesture.

"Are there not," he demanded, "houses and gardens and thunder-storms
that awaken cruel and shameful impulses that would never be aroused in
other houses and other gardens and other storms? Does not the influence
of good and noble decorations uplift us to joy and patriotism? Why
should not the influence of mean and sinful decorations degrade us to
murder and destruction? The flags that fly over the innocent revels of
children are innocent flags, and inspire kind feelings and happiness.
But remove the same flags to a Bull-ring, and they become evil flags,
inspiring lust for the blood and slaughter of helpless creatures--