oming. He was raving about it two nights ago. Then came your
wire from Cape Town. That was what brought me here to meet you."

"I see," she said again. "You--you have been very good. It would
have been dreadful if--if I had been stranded here alone."

"I'd have stopped you at Cape Town if I could," he said.

"No, you wouldn't have stopped me," she answered, with a drear
little smile. "I should have had to come on and see Guy in any
case. I shall have to see him now. Where is he?"

Ranger stood close to her. He bent slightly, looking into her
eyes. "You have understood me?" he questioned.

She looked straight back at him; it was no moment for shrinking
avoidance. "Yes," she said,

"And you believe me?" he proceeded.

Her red-brown eyes widened a little. "But of course I believe you."

"And, still you want to see him?" said Burke Ranger.

"I must see him," she answered quietly. "You must realize that.
You would do the same in my place."

"If I did," said Ranger, dropping his voice, "it would be to tell
him to go to hell!" Then, as involuntarily she drew back: "No, I
shouldn't put it like that to you, I know. But what's the point of
your seeing him? It will only make things worse for you."

"I must see him," she said firmly. "Please tell me where he is!"

He looked at her for a moment or two in silence. "He is in his own
shanty on my farm," he said then. "Blue Hill Farm it is called.
You can't go to him there. It's a twenty-mile ride from here."

"Can't I get a horse to take me?" she asked.

"I could take you in my cart," said Burke slowly.

"And will you?" Sylvia said.

"I suppose you will go in any case," he said.

"I must go," she answered steadily.

"I don't see why," he said. "It's a degrading business. It won't
do any good."

Her face quivered. She controlled it swiftly. "Will you take me?"
she said.

He frowned. "What is going to happen afterwards? Have you thought
of that?"

She shook her head. "No. I can't see the future at all. I only
know that I must see Guy, and I can't go back to England."

"Why not?" he said.

She pressed a hand to her throat as if she found speaking a
difficulty. "I have no place there. My father has married again.
I must earn my living here somehow."

He moved abruptly. "You!" he said again. She tried to smile.
"You seem to think I am very helpless. I assure you I am not. I
have managed my father's house for five years. I am