ou to discover," said Kitson gently, and pushed him toward
the door.

With a quaking heart he turned the knob and stepped guiltily into the
presence of the girl who in the eyes of the law was his wife.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE COMING OF DR. MILSOM

She rose to meet him, and he stood spellbound, still holding the handle
of the door. It seemed that she had taken on new qualities, a new and an
ethereal grace. At the very thought even of his technical possession of
this smiling girl who came forward to greet him, his heart thumped so
loudly that he felt she must hear it. She was pale, and there were dark
shadows under her eyes, but the hand that gripped his was firm and warm
and living.

"I have to thank you for much, Mr. Beale," she said. "Mr. Kitson has
told me that I owe my rescue to you."

"Did he?" he asked awkwardly, and wondered what else Kitson had told
her.

"I am trying to be very sensible, and I want you to help me, because you
are the most sensible man I know."

She went back to the lounge-chair where she had been sitting, and
pointed to another.

"It was horribly melodramatic, wasn't it? but I suppose the life of a
detective is full of melodrama."

"Oh, brimming over," he said. "If you keep very quiet I will give you a
resume of my most interesting cases," he said, making a pathetic attempt
to be flippant, and the girl detected something of his insincerity.

"You have had a trying day," she said, with quick sympathy, "have you
arrested Doctor van Heerden?"

He shook his head.

"I am glad," she said.

"Glad?"

She nodded.

"Before he is arrested," she spoke with some hesitation, "I want one
little matter cleared up. I asked Mr. Kitson, but he put me off and said
you would tell me everything."

"What is it?" he asked steadily.

She got up and went to her bag which stood upon a side-table, opened it
and took out something which she laid on the palm of her hand. She came
back with hand extended, and Beale looked at the glittering object on
her palm and was speechless.

"Do you see that?" she asked.

He nodded, having no words for the moment, for "that" was a thin gold
ring.

"It is a wedding ring," she said, "and I found it on my finger when I
recovered."

"Oh!" said Beale blankly.

"Was I married?" she asked.

He made two or three ineffectual attempts to speak and ended by nodding.

"I feared so," she said quietly, "you see I recollect nothing of what
happened. The last thi