est Rosamund"--thus began Norbert Franks--"our talk this
morning has left me in a state of mind which threatens frenzy. You know
I haven't too much patience. It is out of the question for me to wait a
week for your answer, though I promised. I can't wait even a couple of
days. I must see you again to-morrow--must, must, _must_. Come to the
same place, there's a good, dear, sweet, beautiful girl! If you don't,
I shall be in Oakley Crescent, breaking doors open, behaving insanely.
Come early--"

And so on, over two sheets of the very best notepaper, with Norbert's
respectable address handsomely stamped in red at the top. (The other
missive was on paper less fashionable, with the address, sadly
plebeian, in mere handwriting.) Having read to the end, Rosamund
finished her dressing and went down to the sitting-room. Breakfast was
ready, but, before giving her attention to it, she penned a note. It
was to Warburton. Briefly she informed him that she had decided to join
her sister in the south of France, and that she was starting on the
journey _this morning_. Her address, she added, would be "c/o Mrs.
Alfred Coppinger, St. Jean de Luz, Basses Pyrenees." And therewith she
remained Mr. Warburton's sincerely.

"Please let this be posted at once," said Rosamund when the landlady
came to clear away.

And posted it was.

CHAPTER 36

His hands upon the counter, Warburton stared at the door by which first
Rosamund, then Bertha Cross, had disappeared. His nerves were
a-tremble; his eyes were hot. Of a sudden he felt himself shaken with
irresistible mirth; from the diaphragm it mounted to his throat, and
only by a great effort did he save himself from exploding in laughter.
The orgasm possessed him for several minutes. It was followed by a
sense of light-heartedness, which set him walking about, rubbing his
hands together, and humming tunes.

At last the burden had fallen from him; the foolish secret was blown
abroad; once more he could look the world in the face, bidding it think
of him what it would.

They were talking now--the two girls, discussing their strange
discovery. When he saw Rosamund this evening--of course he would see
her, as she had promised--her surprise would already have lost its
poignancy; he had but to tell the story of his disaster, of his
struggles, and then to announce the coming moment of rescue. No chance
could have been happier than this which betrayed him to these two at
the same time; for