it?

As she asked the question she heard a firm step on the path. It was
Carnac. She turned and stood waiting, leaning against the table,
watching the door through which he presently came. He was dressed in
grey. His coat was buttoned. He carried a soft grey hat, and somehow his
face gave her a feeling that he had come to say good-bye. It startled
her; and yet, though she was tempted to grip her breast, she did not.
Presently she spoke.

"I think you're a very idle man. Why aren't you at work?"

"I am at work," Carnac said cheerfully.

"Work is not all paint and canvas of course. There has to be the
thinking beforehand. Well, of what are you thinking now?"

"Of the evening train to New York."

His face was turned away from her at the instant, because he did
not wish to see the effect of his words. He would have seen that
apprehension came to her eyes. Her mouth opened in quick amazement. It
was all too startling. He was going--for how long?

"Why are you going?" she asked, when she had recovered her poise.

"Well, you see I haven't quite learned my painting yet, and I must study
in great Art centres where one isn't turned down by one's own judgment."

"Ananias!" she said at last. "Ananias!"

"Why do you say I'm a liar?" he asked, flushing a little, though there
was intense inquiry in his eyes. "Because I think it. It isn't your work
only that's taking you away." Suddenly she laughed. "What a fool you
are, Carnac! You're not a good actor. You're not going away for work's
sake only."

"Not for work's sake only--that's true."

"Then why do you go?"

"I'm in a mess, Junia. I've made some mistakes in my life, and I'm going
to try and put one of them right."

"Is anybody trying to do you harm?" she asked gently.

"Yes, somebody's trying to hurt me."

"Hurt him," she rejoined sharply, and her eyes fastened his.

He was about to say there was no him in the matter, but reason steadied
him, and he said:

"I'll do my best, Junia. I wish I could tell you, but I can't. What's to
be done must be done by myself alone."

"Then it ought to be done well."

With an instant's impulse he moved towards her. She went to the window,
however, and she said: "Here's Fabian. You'll be glad of that. You'll
want to say good-bye to him and Sibyl." She ran from him to the front
door. "Fabian--Fabian, here's a bad boy who wants to tell you things he
won't tell me." With these words she went into the garden.

"I don't think h