iff said presently,
"If she knew the poor lad--"

"She did not really know him well, though they had met as children. They
danced together that night and sat and talked in the conservatory. But
she never saw him again," the Duchess explained.

"It might have been too much, even if she did not know him well. We must
keep her quiet," said Dr. Redcliff.

Very shortly afterwards he rose and went away.

An hour later he was sitting in a room at Coombe House alone with Lord
Coombe. It was the room in which Mademoiselle Valle had found his
lordship on the night of Robin's disappearance. No one knew now where
Mademoiselle was or if she were still alive. She had been living with
her old parents in a serene Belgian village which had been destroyed by
the Germans. Black tales had been told of which Robin had been allowed
to hear nothing. She had been protected in many ways.

Though they had not been intimates the two men knew each other well. To
each individually the type of the other was one he could understand. It
was plain to Lord Coombe that Redcliff found his case of rather special
interest, which he felt was scarcely to be wondered at. As he himself
had seen the too slender prostrate figure and the bloodless small face
with its curtain of lashes lying too heavily close to the cold cheek, he
had realised that their helpless beauty alone was enough to arrest more
than ordinary attention. She had, as the woman had cried out, looked as
if she were dead, and dead loveliness is a reaching power.

Dr. Redcliff spoke of her thoughtfully and with a certain gentleness. He
at first included her with many other girls, the changes in whose
methods of life he had been observing.

"The closed gates in their paths are suddenly thrown open for them
because no one has to lock and unlock them," he said. "It produces
curious effects. The light-minded ones take advantage of the fact and
find dangerous amusement in it sometimes. The serious ones go about the
work they have taken in hand. Miss Lawless is, I gather, one of the
thinking and feeling ones and has gone about a great deal."

"Yes. The Duchess has tried to save her from her own ardour, but perhaps
she has worked too steadily."

"Has the Duchess always known where she has gone and what people she has
seen?"

"That would have been impossible. She wished her to feel free and if we
had not wished it, one can see that it would not have been possible to
stand guard over her. Neithe