very red in the white face peeping from under the veil, the little
pointed chin had in its form something aggressive. Slight and even
angular in her modest black dress she was an appealing and--yes--she was
a desirable little figure.

Her lips moved very fast asking me:

"And they believed you at once?"

"Yes, they believed me at once. Mrs. Fyne's word to us was "Go!"

A white gleam between the red lips was so short that I remained uncertain
whether it was a smile or a ferocious baring of little even teeth. The
rest of the face preserved its innocent, tense and enigmatical
expression. She spoke rapidly.

"No, it wasn't your shout. I had been there some time before you saw me.
And I was not there to tempt Providence, as you call it. I went up there
for--for what you thought I was going to do. Yes. I climbed two fences.
I did not mean to leave anything to Providence. There seem to be people
for whom Providence can do nothing. I suppose you are shocked to hear me
talk like that?"

I shook my head. I was not shocked. What had kept her back all that
time, till I appeared on the scene below, she went on, was neither fear
nor any other kind of hesitation. One reaches a point, she said with
appalling youthful simplicity, where nothing that concerns one matters
any longer. But something did keep her back. I should have never
guessed what it was. She herself confessed that it seemed absurd to say.
It was the Fyne dog.

Flora de Barral paused, looking at me, with a peculiar expression and
then went on. You see, she imagined the dog had become extremely
attached to her. She took it into her head that he might fall over or
jump down after her. She tried to drive him away. She spoke sternly to
him. It only made him more frisky. He barked and jumped about her skirt
in his usual, idiotic, high spirits. He scampered away in circles
between the pines charging upon her and leaping as high as her waist. She
commanded, "Go away. Go home." She even picked up from the ground a bit
of a broken branch and threw it at him. At this his delight knew no
bounds; his rushes became faster, his yapping louder; he seemed to be
having the time of his life. She was convinced that the moment she threw
herself down he would spring over after her as if it were part of the
game. She was vexed almost to tears. She was touched too. And when he
stood still at some distance as if suddenly rooted to the ground wagging
his tai