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HREE days later, without warning, Egisto di Pepoli arrived. He walked into the drawing-room where Nina, Teresa, and Crayven were taking tea—a rather short, powerfully made man with a ruddy face and gleaming black eyes. Teresa had never seen him before, but Nina sprang to her feet and cried, "Egisto!"

He kissed her cheek perfunctorily, bowed to the others, and said, abruptly, "Where is Edith?"

"Lying down with a headache," Nina said. She had turned quite pale.

"Will you tell her I am here?"

Nina went into the hall, beckoning to Teresa. "Don't go," she whispered. "But do get Crayven away—there's going to be an awful row. You wait up in my room, will you? Don't go, Teresa—I don't know what will happen. …"

She seemed terrified, and was urging Teresa to take Crayven away, and not to leave her, when Crayven himself came out to take leave. His face was inexpressive, but it was clear that he had felt something of the situation. He went away; Teresa stood on the verandah for a moment with him, and promised a long walk next day—"if I can," she added absently.