at the Bouddha. And again her figure strongly suggested that of
the sight-seer, unperturbed and adequate amidst strange and alien
surroundings. Gregory found her before the Bouddha when he came in. If
Mrs. Talcott had been in any doubt as to one of the deep intuitions that
had, from the first, sustained her, Gregory's face would have reassured
her. It had a look of suffocated grief; it was ravaged; it asked nothing
and gave nothing; it was fixed on its one devouring preoccupation.

"How do you do, Mrs. Talcott," he said. They shook hands. His voice was
curiously soft.

"I've come up, you see," said Mrs. Talcott. "I've come up to see you,
Mr. Jardine."

"Yes?" said Gregory gently. He had placed a chair for her but, when she
sat down, he remained standing. He did not, it was evident, imagine her
errand to be one that would require a prolonged attention from him.

"Mr. Jardine," said Mrs. Talcott, "what was your idea when you first
found out about Karen from the detective and asked me not to tell?"

Gregory collected his thoughts, with difficulty. "I don't know that I
had any idea," he answered. "I was stunned. I wanted time to think."

"And you hoped it wasn't true, perhaps?"

"No; I hadn't any hope. I knew it was true. Karen had said things to me
that made it nothing of a surprise. But perhaps my idea was that she
would be sorry for what she had done and write to me, or to you. I think
I wanted to give Karen time."

"Well, and then?" Mrs. Talcott asked. "If she had written?"

"Well, then, I'd have gone to her."

"You'd have taken her back?"

"If she would have come, of course," said Gregory, in his voice of
wraith-like gentleness.

"You wanted her back if she'd gone off with another man like that and
didn't love you any more?"

Gregory was silent for a moment and she saw that her persistence
troubled and perplexed him.

"As to love," he said, "Karen was a child in some things. I believe that
she would have grown to love me if her guardian hadn't come between us.
And it might have been to escape from her guardian as well as with the
idea of freeing herself from me that she took refuge with this man. I am
convinced that her guardian behaved badly to her. It's rather difficult
for me to talk to you, Mrs. Talcott," said Gregory, "though I am
grateful for your kindness, because I so inexpressibly detest a person
whom you care for."

"Mr. Jardine," said Mrs. Talcott, fixing her eyes upon him, "I want to
say