eful, he must carry it out to the end. Yet to himself
he was glad of the short respite. For one night more he would breathe
freedom as John Riviere.

Only one night more!

For the moment, time was no object to him, and he proceeded on foot
through Roehampton village and by the sodden coppices of Putney Heath to
the Portsmouth high road and the railway station of East Putney.

He waited at the station until an underground train snaked its way in
like a giant blindworm, and went with it to the Temple and so to the
quiet hotel he had chosen in Lincoln's Inn Fields. On his way, he sent
off a telegram to the shipowner stating that John Riviere would call at
Leadenhall Street at eleven o'clock in the morning.

In the coffee-room of the Avon Hotel he sat down to write a long letter
to Elaine which would explain all that had been hidden from her. Without
sparing himself one jot he told her of the circumstances of his life
since the crucial night of March 14th, and of the deception he carried
out with her as well as with the rest of the world. It was long past
midnight before he put to the letter the signature of "Clifford
Matheson."

And then with a stab of pain he remembered that Elaine could not read
it. There were passages in the letter which must not be read to her by
any outside person. It was evident that what he had to tell her would
have to be said by word of mouth.

Riviere tore up his letter into small fragments and burnt them carefully
in the grate.

CHAPTER XIX

A THRONE-ROOM

Dinner was over at Thornton Chase, and the three were back in the
drawing-room--Olive, Larssen, and Sir Francis. The men smoked at Olive's
request; and she herself lighted one of a special brand of cigarettes
which she had made for her by Antonides.

"I hate to have my drawing-room smelling of afternoon-tea and feminine
chit-chat," she explained. "The two Carleton-Wingate frumps called on me
this afternoon for a couple of solid hours' boring, which they dignify
to themselves as a duty call. Please smoke away the remembrance of
them."

"The Carleton-Wingates are a useful crowd," said Larssen. "There's an
M.P., a major-general and a minister plenipotentiary amongst them."

"Give me those to deal with, and you entertain the twin frumps,"
answered Olive. "Twins are always hateful in a room, because they sit
together and chorus their comments together, just as if they were one
mind with two bodies. You feel as if you ought t