turned the conversation into other channels, and left her at
last--seeming there, amongst her candles, with her nose and thin hands,
like some old bird of most evil omen.

III

But for him there was to be no more peace.

It was now about four o'clock and already the dusk was closing in about
the town. He decided that he would go and see whether Rachel were in.

He was determined that he would ask Rachel nothing; if she wished to
speak to him he would help her, but it must be of her own free
will--that was the only way at present.

For how much was the Duchess's malignity responsible? What exactly did
she know? What did she intend to do?

Oddly enough, for a long time past some subconscious part of him had
linked Rachel and Breton together, perhaps because they were the two
persons in all the world for whom he most cared, perhaps because he had
always known in both of them that rebellious discontent so unlike that
Beaminster acquiescence.

As he drove through the evening streets, he felt that never, until now,
had he known how dearly he loved Rachel. In his mind there was no
judgment of her, only a sense of her peril; if she would speak to
him!...

When he asked at the door of the flat for Lady Seddon he was told that
she was out.

"Sir Roderick is at home, sir." He would see Roddy.

Roddy was sitting in the little box-like room known as the smoking-room,
poring over a war map. About the map little flags were dotted; he had
two in his hand and, with one hand lifted, was hesitating as to their
position.

"That was a damned bad mess----" Christopher heard him say as he came
in.

At the sound of the door Roddy looked up, straightened himself, and then
came forward.

"Hallo! Christopher," he said. "Delighted. Splendid! Rachel's out, but
she said she'd be back to tea."

He was not looking well--fat, his cheeks pale and puffy, lines beneath
his eyes.

"I'm jolly glad you've come," he said. He drew two arm-chairs to the
fire and they sat down.

Roddy then talked a great deal. He was always a little nervous with
Christopher because he was well aware that the doctor had disapproved of
his marriage.

Christopher had lately shown him that he liked him, but still Roddy was
not at his ease. He talked of the war, then of golf, then polo, then
horses, Seddon Court--abruptly he stopped and sat there gazing moodily
into the fire.

"You're not looking well, Seddon," Christopher said quietly.

"I'm not very--