with a question.

"Excuse me, sir"--neither of them knew, as yet, the name of the
visitor--"may I ask how you became possessed of all this information? I
am perfectly sure that Mrs. Rose herself has not been your informant,
but I fail to see----in the first place, may we ask your name?"

"My name is Dowson, Leonard Dowson." He spoke defiantly. "And as to who
told me, well, it doesn't much matter, that I can see, but it was a
friend of--of Mrs. Rose." He dared not again call her "Toni."

"A friend?" In one sickening flash of intuition, Herrick knew who had
been Toni's evil genius. He stopped short, physically incapable of
questioning further; but Owen had no such scruples.

"Who is this--friend?" He could not help the sneer; and Herrick paled in
the lamplight, fearing yet powerless to avert the answer.

"I don't suppose it matters telling you." Dowson paused. "It was Mrs.
Herrick--Mrs. Rose's best friend--who told me; and she swore that every
word was true."

There was a short, tense silence; and Andrews, who had been hovering
unnoticed in the background, suddenly dived through the baize door and
disappeared, as one who feels his presence an intrusion.

"So it was Mrs. Herrick who gave you this precious information." Owen,
very pale, turned to Herrick. "Herrick, I won't insult your wife by
asking if this is true. It's a lie, of course. Mrs. Herrick is a friend
of my wife's. She would never play such a treacherous, underhand
part----"

"I ... I don't know what to say...."

"No, I should think you don't." Dowson spoke vehemently. "You know it
was she who put me up to it all along. She said Mrs. Rose had owned to
being--well, fond of me in her way, though of course she put her husband
first. But she told me I had a chance, that if I'd offer to take Mrs.
Rose away she'd come ... oh, she convinced me fast enough. I daresay I
was a fool, but I couldn't bear to stand by and say nothing when by
taking her away----"

He stopped suddenly. Owen had made a threatening step forward.

"Look here"--Owen's voice was choked with rage--"stop talking all that
rot, and tell me what you've done with my wife. First, of all, where is
she?"

"How can I tell you when I don't know?" retorted the young man almost
rudely. "She came away with me right enough, and then we had an accident
to the car--a tyre burst--and we went into a hotel at Stratton to wait
for it to be repaired. I went to the post-office to send a telegram, and
when I