oor a thing that it had no power to
move him. What moved him was the look in her eyes, the look which his
brain told him was the desperate, incredulous appeal of her unhappy
soul.

"I don't know, Kitty," he said. "Thank heaven, he's not a friend of
mine."

CHAPTER XVI

It was not from Marston, then, that she had to fear betrayal. Neither
was she any more afraid of the rumours of the Cliff Hotel. She was aware
that her engagement to Robert Lucy, unannounced but accepted for the
simple fact it was, had raised her above censure and suspicion.

It had come just in time to occupy Mrs. Jurd and Miss Keating on their
way to Surbiton.

When Kitty thought of Grace Keating she said to herself, "How will Bunny
feel now?" But her mortal exultation was checked by her pity for poor
Bunny, who would have been so happy if she had been married.

Then there were the Hankins. She reflected sanely that they couldn't be
dangerous, for they knew nothing. Still she did feel a little uneasy
when she thought of the Hankins.

She was thinking of them now as she and Robert sat on the Cliff, making
the most of their last hour together before the arrival of the little
girls.

"Robert," she said, "the Hankins are probably sitting down there under
the Cliff. Supposing they see us?"

"They can't, we're over their heads."

"But if they do what do you suppose they'll think?"

"If they think at all, they'll have an inkling of the truth. But it
isn't their business. The children will be here soon," he added.

She looked at him intently. Was he trying, she wondered, to reassure her
that the presence of his children would protect her? Or was he merely
preoccupied with the thought of their arrival?

"You don't mind," he said presently, "not coming to the station?"

He had said that already twice before. Why ask, she said, when he knew
perfectly well she didn't mind?

Of course she didn't mind. She knew his idea, that they were not to be
confronted with her suddenly. He meant to let her dawn on them
beautifully, with the tenderest gradations. He would approach them with
an incomparable cunning. He would tell them that they were going to see
a very pretty lady. And when they were thoroughly inured to the idea of
her, he would announce that the pretty lady was coming to stay with
them, and that she would never go away.

She looked at her watch.

"We've got another half-hour before they come."

"Kitty, I believe you're afraid of t