lly alive.

He went down to the sea, found the Albanian boatman with whom he had
rowed on his first day at Buyukderer, took his boat out and bathed from
it. The current beyond the bay was strong. He had a longing to let it
take him whither it would. If only he could find an influence to which
he could give himself, an influence which would sweep him away!

If only he could get rid of his long fidelity!

When he climbed dripping, and with his hair plastered down on his
forehead, into the boat, the Albanian stared at him as if in surprise.

"What's the matter?" said Dion in French, when he was dry and getting
into his clothes.

But the man only replied:

"Monsieur tres fort molto forte, moi aussi tres fort. Monsieur venez
sempre con moi!"

And he smiled with the evident intention of being agreeable to a
valuable client. Dion did not badger him with any more questions. As the
boat touched the quay he told the man to be ready to start for Therapia
that day at any time after three o'clock.

When he reached the summer villa of the Ambassador he was informed by a
tall English footman that Lady Ingleton was at home. She received Dion
in the midst of the little dogs, but after he had been with her for a
very few minutes she rang for a servant and banished them. Secretly she
was deeply interested in this man who had killed his son, but she gave
Dion no reason to suppose that she was concentrating on him. Her lazy,
indifferent manner was perfectly natural, but perhaps now and then she
was more definitely kind than usual; and she managed somehow to show
Dion that she was ready to be his friend.

"If you stay long we must take you over one day on the yacht to Brusa,"
she said presently. "Cynthia loves Brusa, and so does my husband. We
went over there once with Pierre Loti. Cynthia and poor Beadon Clarke
were of the party, I remember. We had a delightful time."

"Why do you say poor Beadon Clarke?" asked Dion abruptly.

That day he was at a great parting of the ways. He was concentrated upon
himself and his own decision, so concentrated that the conventions
meant little to him. He was totally unaware of the bruskness of such a
question asked of a woman whom he had never seen before.

"One pities a thoroughly good fellow who does a thoroughly foolish
thing. It was a very, very foolish thing to do to attack Cynthia."

"I was in court during part of the trial."

"Well, then, you know how foolish it was. Some people can't