missed lunching at his office. Dorothy
was now convinced that something was wrong. Everything about him
seemed strange and forced.

Once or twice she caught him looking at her furtively; but immediately
she raised her eyes, he hastily shifted his, as if caught in some
doubtful act.

At twelve o'clock lunch arrived, and Dorothy had to confess to herself
that it was a lonely and unsatisfactory meal.

At five o'clock John Dene returned and signed the letters with a rubber
stamp, which he had recently adopted.

"When are you going away, Mr. Dene?" asked Dorothy.

"I don't know," he responded gruffly.

"I merely asked because two people on the telephone enquired when you
were going away."

"And what did you say?"

"Oh, I just said what you told me. A man called this afternoon also
with the same question."

For a moment he looked at her, then turning on his heel said "good
evening," and with a nod walked out.

Dorothy had expected him to make some remark about these enquiries.
She knew that John Dene had no friends in London, and the questions as
to when he was going away had struck her as strange.

The next day was a repetition of the first. A few letters were
dictated, a sheaf of documents handed to her to copy, and John Dene
disappeared. Again lunch was brought for her, which she ate alone, and
at five o'clock he came in and signed the letters.

By this time Dorothy was convinced that he was ill. The strain of the
past few weeks had evidently been telling on him. When he had signed
the last letter she bluntly enquired if he felt better.

"Better?" he interrogated. "I haven't been ill."

"I thought you didn't seem quite well," said Dorothy hesitatingly; but
he brushed aside the enquiry by picking up his hat and bidding her
"good evening."

Dorothy was feeling annoyed and a little hurt; and preserved an
attitude of businesslike brevity in all her remarks to John Dene. If
he chose to adopt the attitude of the uncompromising employer, she on
her part would humour him by becoming an ordinary employee. Still she
had to confess to herself that the old pleasure in her work had
departed. Hitherto she had looked forward to her arrival at the
office, the coming of John Dene, their luncheons together and the
occasional little chats that were sandwiched in between her work.

She had become deeply interested in the _Destroyer_ and what it would
achieve in the war. She had been flattered by the confidenc