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 “So far so good. You will return at once, keep a watchful eye on them, and let me know of his movements. They are all important just now.”

“Yes, Sir Digby.”

Cunning eyes looked into cunning eyes. There was no doubt of the understanding.

“Are there any other orders, Sir Digby?”

“Be careful, that’s all; don’t let them sus- pect. And above all things watch him, par- ticularly his coming and going. Should he chance to leave her alone—you understand, alone—let me know at once.”

Brenton curtly dismissed the man, particu- larly avoiding his glance, for he guessed in- tuitively that there was something in his own face which it would scarcely be politic to let a stranger see. But once the door had closed behind his agent he made no attempt to check the smile which rose to his lips, though his laughter was curiously noiseless, as though too deep for exuberant expression.

Crossing the room he picked up the shattered photograph and brought it under the light.

He was met by the same mocking, defiant eyes,

the same contemptuous curl of the lips; but the”

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