. . . I
nearly telephoned to say I couldn't come--but I didn't see what good
that would do. Eric, I want you to straighten this out for me; Jack was
reported missing on the 27th----"

"Of August. Last year. Yes."

"Well, father had a letter from Cranborne's the army bankers, just
before I left this morning, to say that a cheque had come in--through
Holland, I think--dated October the 9th. Apparently a lot of people are
traced in that way, and Cranborne's wanted father to know as soon as
possible. They sent the cheque and asked father to look at it very
carefully and say if _he_ was satisfied that it was Jack's signature;
then they'd know what to do about it or something. . . ."

Eric looked at her unwaveringly and bade her finish her story. He tried
to tell himself that he had always expected and discounted this.

"I brought the cheque with me and had a long talk with one of the
partners. That's why I'm so late. There's no doubt about it, Eric! Mr.
Cranborne--told me--as a banker--that he was prepared to honour the
cheque--is that the phrase?--as being signed _by Jack_--_on_ that day.
What does it mean, Eric? I want you to explain it all."

A voluble waiter was gesticulating and seeking instructions about the
wine.

"Oh, open it now!" Eric exclaimed without turning round. A moment later
the champagne was creaming slowly up his glass. He drained it, coughed
once and collected himself.

"Let's first hear what Cranborne said," he suggested.

"Oh, he had all sorts of theories! That Jack had lost his memory--he
remembered his name all right--; that some one had found the cheque on
his body after the push and altered the date--a cheque for ten pounds--;
that he'd tried to escape, and those brutes had punished him by not
letting us know he was a prisoner. . . . It doesn't matter, does it,
Eric? He's _alive_! That's what I want you to say to me! He's _alive_!"

"He was alive on the ninth of October," he amended.

"Weeks after the push? Then he's alive now! _Isn't_ he, Eric? He _must_
be! I was right in believing. . . . Eric, will you think me an awful
pig, if we waste the tickets to-night? I'd so much, much sooner sit and
talk to you. It's so wonderful! It's like a man rising from the dead!
It's----"

"You must get some food inside you," he ordered prosaically. "Take your
time. Don't try to tell me all about it in one breath."

She gulped a mouthful of fish and looked up with brimming eyes.

"Oh, Eric, if you on