ht of him here in Sloane Street, so I knew it was no use writing just
then. And I didn't care for him to see me. I thought I would give him
time to return. As a matter of fact, I wrote yesterday evening. He would
get the letter to-night. I hope my disappearance didn't cause you any
anxiety?'

'Anxiety!' He repeated the word. 'You don't know what I've been through.
I feared that Ravengar, before killing himself, had arranged to--to--I
don't know what I feared. Horrible, unmentionable things! You can't
guess what I've been through.'

'I, too, have suffered since we met last,' said Camilla softly.

'Don't talk of it--don't talk of it!' he entreated her. 'I know all. I
saw your image in a coffin. I have heard your late husband's statement.
And Darcy has told me much. Let us forget all that, and let us forget it
for evermore. But you have to remember, nevertheless, that in London you
have the reputation of being dead.'

'I have not forgotten,' she said, with a beautiful inflection and a
bending of the head, 'that I promised to thank you the next time we met
for what you did for me. Let me thank you now. Tell me how I can thank
you!'

He wanted to cry out that she was divine, and that she must do exactly
what she liked with him. And then he wanted to take her and clasp her
till she begged for her breath. And he was tempted to inform her that
though she loved Darcy as man was never loved before, still she should
marry him, Hugo, or Darcy should die.

'Sit down,' he said in a quiet, familiar voice. 'Don't bother about
thanking me. Just tell me all about the history of your relations with
Ravengar.' And to himself he said: 'She shall talk to me, and I will
listen, and we shall begin to be intimate. This is the greatest
happiness I can have. Hang the future! I will give way to my mood. Darcy
said she didn't want to leave Paris, but she has left it. That's
something.'

'I will do anything you want,' she answered almost gaily; and she sat
down again.

'I doubt it,' he smiled. 'However--'

The sense of intimacy, of nearness, gave him acute pleasure, as at their
first interview months ago.

'I would _like_ to tell you,' she began; 'and there is no harm now.
Where shall I start? Well'--she became suddenly grave--'Mr. Ravengar
used to pass my father's shop in the Edgware Road. He came in to buy
things. It was a milliner's shop, and so he could buy nothing but
bonnets and hats. He bought bonnets and hats. I often served him