Furneaux shook his head. Evidently the point did not appeal to him.

"There is no set formula that expresses the artistic temperament," he
said. "The man who passes whole years in studying the nude is often
endowed with a very high moral sense. Mr. Trenholme, though carried
away by enthusiasm this morning, may be consumed with remorse tonight
if he imagines that the lady who formed the subject of his sketch is
likely to be distressed because of it.

"I fear I am to blame. I stopped Mr. Trenholme from destroying the
picture today. He meant burning it, since he had the sense to realize
that he would be summoned as a witness, not only at tomorrow's
inquest, but when the affair comes before the courts. I was bound
to point out that the drawings supplied his solitary excuse for being
in the locality at all. He saw that--unwillingly, it is true, but
with painful clearness--so I assume that his visit to Miss Manning
was expiatory, a sort of humble obeisance to a goddess whom he had
offended unwittingly. I assume, too, that his plea for mercy has not
proved wholly unsuccessful or Miss Manning would not now be walking
with him across the park."

"What!" roared Robert. He turned to the gaping footman, for the whole
conversation had taken place in the hall. "Which way did Miss Sylvia
go?" he cried.

"Down the avenue, sir," said the man. "I saw Miss Sylvia meet the
gentleman, and after some talk they went through the trees to the
right."

Robert raced off. Winter, who had not interfered hitherto, because
Furneaux always had a valid excuse for his indiscretions, made as if
he would follow and restrain the younger Fenley; but Furneaux caught
his eye and winked. That sufficed. The Superintendent contented
himself with gazing after Robert Fenley, who ran along the avenue
until clear of the Quarry Wood, when he, too, plunged through the
line of elms and was lost to sight.

Hilton watched his impetuous brother with a brooding underlook. He
still held in his hand a leather portfolio bulging with papers, some
of which he had placed there when Winter opened the door of the
railway coach in St. Pancras station. The footman offered to relieve
him of it, but was swept aside with a gesture.

"I have never known Robert so excited and erratic in his movements as
he has been today," he said at last. "I hope he will not engage in a
vulgar quarrel with this Mr. Trenholme, especially in Miss Manning's
presence."

Apparently he could not qu