in the name of mischief, where? He seemed to remember
thrusting his own letters to Chloe into a desk of his schoolboy days
which used to stand in his London sitting-room. Very likely some of hers
might be there too. But the thought of his own had by now become a much
greater anxiety to him than the wish to placate Chloe. For he was most
uncomfortably aware that his correspondence with Chloe during their
short engagement had been of a very different degree of fervour from
that shown in the letters to Daphne under similar circumstances. As for
the indelicacy and folly of leaving such documents to chance, he cursed
it sorely.

How to look? He pondered it. He did not even know which attic it was
that had been reserved at the time of the letting of Heston, and now
held some of the old London furniture and papers. Well, he must manage
it, "burgle" his own house, if necessary. What an absurd situation!
Should he consult his mother? No; better not.

* * * * *

That evening General Hobson was expected for a couple of nights. On
going up to dress for dinner, Roger discovered that he had been banished
to a room on the farther side of the house, where his servant was now
putting out his clothes. He turned very white, and went straight to his
wife.

Daphne was on the sofa as before, and received him in silence.

"What's the meaning of this, Daphne?" The tone was quiet, but the
breathing quick.

She looked at him--bracing herself.

"I must be alone! I had no sleep last night."

"You had neuralgia?"

"I don't know--I had no sleep. I must be alone."

His eyes and hers met.

"For to-night, then," he said briefly. "I don't know what's the matter
with you, Daphne and I suppose it's no use to ask you. I thought,
yesterday--but--however, there's no time to talk now. Are you coming
down to dinner?"

"Not to dinner. I will come down for an hour afterwards."

He went away, and before he had reached his own room, and while the heat
of his sudden passion still possessed him, it occurred to him that
Daphne's behaviour might after all prove a godsend. That night he would
make his search, with no risk of disturbing his wife.

* * * * *

The dinner in the newly decorated dining-room went heavily. Lady Barnes
had grown of late more and more anxious and depressed. She had long
ceased to assert herself in Daphne's presence, and one saw her as the
British matron in advers