d making wild havoc in her
hair. He was with her in different moods in the little room behind his
library, when the natural joy of her young life had for the moment
reasserted itself. He was with her at their parting. He saw half the
fearful regret with which she had left his care and accepted the
intervention of the Marquise. Stirring times these had been for a man of
his quiet temperament, whom matters of sentiment and romance had passed
lightly by, and whose passions had never before been touched by the
finger of fire. And now he was going back to an empty life--a life at
least empty of joy, save the hope of seeing her again. For good or for
evil, the great thing had found its way into his life. His days of calm
animal enjoyment were over. Sorrow or joy was to be his. He had passed
into the shadows of the complex life.

He remembered where he was at last, and turned to Spencer.

"About yourself, Spencer," he said. "Have you seen a doctor?"

"Yes. I am not seriously ill," his friend answered. "The worst is over
now. And, Duncombe, it's hard for you to go, I know--but look here, I
believe that you will be back in a month, and taking Miss Poynton to
lunch _chez_ Ritz. I never felt so sure of it as I do to-day."

Duncombe remembered the answer to his note, and found it hard to share
his friend's cheerfulness.

CHAPTER VIII

A POLITICAL INTERLUDE

Duncombe laid down his cue and strolled towards the sideboard, where his
guest was already mixing himself a whisky and soda.

"By the by, Runton," he said, "have you seen anything of our friend Von
Rothe since that little affair at your place?"

Lord Runton shook his head.

"Not once," he answered. "He behaved very decently about it on the
whole; treated it quite lightly--but he wouldn't let me go near the
police. It was a long way the most unpleasant thing that ever happened
in my house."

"Never any further light upon it, I suppose?" Duncombe asked.

Lord Runton shook his head.

"None. Of course we could have traced them both without a doubt if we
had put it in the hands of the police, but Von Rothe wouldn't hear of
it. He tried to treat it lightly, but I know that he was very much
worried."

"Do you yourself believe," Duncombe asked, "that it was a political
affair or an ordinary robbery?"

"I think that it was the former," Lord Runton answered. "Those people
were not common adventurers. By the by, George, have you got over your
little weakness yet