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Left to themselves once more, it became William's task to comfort June's distress. Like Sir Arthur, he too, it seemed, could be tactful. Instead of discussing the question of the Van Roon's ownership or the unlucky presence of the Hoodoo, he began gently to discourse of Mathew Maris.

As far as June was concerned he might as well have discoursed of the moon. In the first place she had never heard of Mathew Maris; and in the second she was consumed by a desire to settle forever the question of the Van Roon which was now tormenting her like a fire. This was a dynamic moment, when great decisions are reached with startling abruptness and half a lifetime may be lived in half a minute.

Mathew Maris was not for June just now. Suddenly she broke again into wild sobs.

"I cheated you, I tricked you over that picture."

Again, good honest fellow, he tried to change the current of this mind distraught. But it was not to be.

"You gave it me, didn't you, because I made you think I had fallen in love with it? But I hadn't. It meant nothing to me—not in that way."

He stood an image of dismay, but he had to listen.

"Why do you suppose I did that? I'll tell you. I overheard Uncle Si talking to a dealer. You remember,