first of all the aces: the man who brought down the Zeppelin over
Brussels. You see I know all about you. Your picture was in the papers.
I've told you that you were expected. So why----"

The front door was heard to open and close. There was the sound of
Maisie's voice. They stood rigidly listening in the semi-darkness.
Neither of them spoke or stirred. As she entered, a shaft of light from
the hall preceded her. Quietly Tabs placed himself between her and the
stranger. The stranger made no motion to thwart him; he stood like one
turned to stone. Just across the threshold she halted, leaning forward
slightly and peering through the shadows.

"Why, Tabs," she laughed, "how romantic of you to sit waiting for me in
the twilight!"

Tabs came forward as though he were about to push her back. "I'm not
alone, Mrs. Lockwood----"

"I know. Porter told me. But why are you standing in my way?" She
laughed again. A shiver of fear cut short her laughter. "What's the
matter? I don't see your friend. Why don't you introduce----"

"He's not my friend. He says he's yours."

"Then all the more reason---- Why are you acting strangely? No, please
let me into my own room, Tabs."

He had put out his arm to prevent her. Without warning the stranger
advanced into the shaft of light. She saw him and fell back screaming,
covering her eyes. With a vehemence that was unexpected, he pushed Tabs
aside and clasped her to him. "Maisie darling, don't be afraid. I'm
real. I know everything. And I don't mind----"

At sound of his voice, she uncovered her eyes. His face was close to
hers. The fixed look of terror left her.

Putting out her hands timidly, she ran her fingers along the scar in his
forehead. "They've hurt you. Poor you! My Reggie! Oh, my lover, they've
hurt you!"

She buried her head against his shoulder and fell to weeping
passionately.

II

Neither of them had seen him go. He had tiptoed past them like a ghost
and out into the summer night. The sky was luminous with the dust of
stars. A sleepy wind was blowing.

He jumped into his car and sped away, making such haste that one might
have thought he was pursued. He wheeled to the left in the direction
that led to the Surrey hills. It was the direction he had taken with
Terry on that March morning when she had met him at the station. He was
making a discovery: that there is no tragedy more difficult to
contemplate with charity than the sight of other people's happiness.