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 herself on him. God knows what she had in her mind. Pure mischief, I suspect, though of course it may have been propaganda. It seems he came in about ten o'clock and went on to the terrace to smoke or to look at the sea. She followed him there, tackled him about his sister or his soul."

"How do you know all this?"

"Let me tell the story my own way. He met her full-face so to speak, wanted to know exactly what she was doing in this part of the world. Perhaps she didn't know she was giving away the show. Perhaps she didn't know he wasn't exactly in our confidence. There is no use thinking the worst of her."

"She knew what she was doing, that she was coming between us." Margaret spoke in a low voice, a voice of desperate certainty and hopelessness.

"Well, that doesn't matter one way or another, what her intentions were, I mean. I don't know myself what had happened between you and him. Although of course I spotted quick enough he'd had some sort of shock.&hellip;"

"Then you have seen him!"

"I was coming to that. After his interview with her he came straight to me."

"To you! But it was already night!"

"I'd gone to bed, but he rang the night bell, rang and rang again. I didn't know who it was when I