lanation he had evolved regarding the
cable. He alone knew the extent to which Therese hated having him
under the same roof with her. Outwardly she was cordial enough, but he
realised that he must be a thorn in the flesh to her, although he had
never had reason to believe she would take so definite a step to keep
him away from Cannes. How furious she must have been at the shipwreck
of her little plan!

He laughed aloud, so absorbed in the mental picture of her chagrin,
that he collided with a dapper young man in a dinner jacket at that
moment about to enter Therese's sitting-room. Pulling up short, he
looked to see who it was who made so free of the house, and,
simultaneously, the visitor wheeled round with an expression of
nonchalant arrogance.

"Holliday!"

"Ah, it's you, Clifford!"

The greeting, though not exactly unfriendly, lacked warmth on both
sides.

"I heard over the telephone you were expected. How's the great New
World?"

"Oh, flourishing. I suppose you're dining here?"

"Why, no. As a matter of fact, I thought of taking Therese out
somewhere. She's a bit frayed out, poor girl; she thought it might
help her to sleep if she got away for a couple of hours. Rotten shame
about your father. Typhoid's no joke at his time of life."

"Still, he seems to be going on fairly well."

"So I hear. I've been having a chat with Sartorius. He's by way of
being a pal of mine, you know."

"Yes, my aunt tells me he did great things for you."

"Great!"--with a short laugh--"I should think he did. You didn't see
me at that time, did you? I was just about to 'pass in my checks,' as
your Yankee friends would say. He's a wizard, that's what he is.
Never will be a fashionable physician, not enough ambition. Well,
cheerio. I shall be seeing you soon no doubt."

He disappeared into the boudoir and closed the door. Roger continued
thoughtfully across the landing. Resentment stirred in him at the cool
manner in which Arthur Holliday came upstairs unannounced and went into
rooms without knocking. Not that he cared on his stepmother's account,
but it seemed to him an indignity to his father, an old man, belonging
to another and more formal generation. It was evidence of a vulgar
streak in Therese that she should permit such familiarities, whatever
her relations with Holliday might be. He was glad that his
simple-minded aunt appeared to remain in the dark about an affair which
was plainly apparent to h