her
a service. And in the midst of this joy, the coverlet slid to the ground
and revealed her clad from head to foot in his sister's sables.

There was a pause.

"What are you looking at?" she asked.

"That is a nice warm coat you have on."

"Isn't it?" She rubbed her cheek against the high collar with a
tenderness trying to any masculine onlooker. "It saved my life."

It was on the tip of Geoffrey's tongue to ask if he was not entitled to
a similar claim on her consideration, but he suppressed it. Was it
possible that she did not know that the garments she wore were stolen?
Could any sane woman really believe that sable coats fell naturally to
the lot of night watchmen? Her manner was candour itself, but how should
it not be? What more inevitable than that she should make an effort to
deceive a casual stranger? She had the most evident motives for behaving
exactly as she did. Just so, however, he had reasoned about McVay, and
yet McVay had been sincere. There had been a girl in distress exactly as
he had said. It was contrary to all reason, but it was true. Might not
the girl be true too? Was it not possible, he asked himself, and
answered that it was more than possible, it was the truth. He chose to
believe in her, and turned his anger against McVay, who could drag her
through such a mire. He felt the tragedy of a high-minded woman tricked
out in stolen finery, and remembered with a pang that he himself was
hurrying on the moment of disillusion.

"I wonder," she said, "if I could take some things with me. Is it
impossible for me to carry a bag?"

"Yes, but not for me."

"It would be only this." She held up a small Russia leather affair
legibly marked with Mrs. Inness' initials.

"I will take it," said Geoffrey. His faith was sorely tried.

She moved about collecting things and packing, and presently remarked:

"But if Billy is all right, why didn't he come for me himself?"

"Oh, because--" Geoffrey hesitated an instant, and her fears interpreted
the pause.

"He's hurt. You are keeping it from me. You are deceiving me."

"I would scorn to deceive you," said Geoffrey with passion, and looked
at her to find some answer to the reverse question which he did not put
into words.

She did not appear to understand. "Then why didn't he come?" she asked.

"He had been out in the storm already. I thought it was my turn."

"I think you must be stronger than Billy." She cast a reflective glance
at his shoulders