novelist's fine,
finished product. As it happens, Jaffery has had to fill up little gaps,
make bridges here and there. I'm sure if you had been well enough," I
added, with a touch of malice, for I had not quite forgiven his leaving
me in the dark, "Jaffery would have consulted you on many points."

I was very anxious to see what impression the book would make upon her.
Although I had reassured Jaffery, I could, scarcely conceive the
possibility of the book being taken as the work of Adrian.

"Of course I would," said Jaffery eagerly. "But that's just it. You
weren't equal to the worry. Now you're all right and I agree with
Hilary. You ought to read it. You see, some of the bridges are so jolly
clumsy."

Doria turned to my wife. "Do you think I would be justified?"

"Decidedly," said Barbara. "You ought to read it at once."

So it came to pass that, after lunch, Doria came into my study and
demanded the set of proofs. She took them up to her bedroom, where she
remained all the afternoon. I was greatly relieved. It was right that
she should know what was going to be published under Adrian's name.

In Jaffery's presence, I disclosed to Barbara the identity of the
author. He said to her much the same as he had said to me before lunch,
with, perhaps, a little more shamefacedness. Were it not for reiteration
upon reiteration of the same things in talk, life would be a stark
silence broken only by staccato announcement of facts. At last Barbara's
eyes grew uncomfortably moist. Impulsively she flew to Jaffery and put
her arms round his vast shoulders--he was sitting, otherwise she could
not have done it--and hugged him.

"You're a blessed, blessed dear," she said; and ashamed of this
exhibition of sentiment she bolted from the room.

Jaffery, looking very shy and uncomfortable, suggested a game of
billiards.

To Barbara and myself awaiting our guests in the drawing-room before
dinner, the first to come was Doria, whom we hadn't seen since lunch; an
arresting figure in her low evening dress; you can imagine a Tanagra
figure in black and white ivory. Her face, however, was a passion of
excitement.

"It's wonderful," she cried. "More than wonderful. Even I didn't know
till to-day what a great genius Adrian was. All these things he
describes--he never saw them. He imagined, created. Oh, my God! If only
he had lived to finish it." She put her two hands before her eyes and
dashed them swiftly away--"Jaffery has done his b