be attacked
with impunity."

The inflexion of Lady Ingleton's voice at that moment made Dion think of
Mrs. Chetwinde. Once or twice Mrs. Chetwinde's voice had sounded almost
exactly like that when she had spoken of Mrs. Clarke.

"Especially people who are innocent," he said.

"Naturally, as Cynthia was. Beadon Clarke made a terrible mistake, poor
fellow."

When Dion got up to go she again alluded to his staying on at
Buyukderer, with an "if" attached to the allusion, and her dark eyes,
which looked like an Italian's, rested upon him with a soft, but very
intelligent, scrutiny. He had an odd feeling that she had taken a liking
to him, and yet that she did not wish him to stay on in Buyukderer.

"I don't quite know what I am going to do," he said.

As he spoke the hideous freedom of his empty life seemed to gather
itself together, and to flow stealthily upon him like a filthy wave
bearing refuse upon its surface.

"I'm a free agent," he added, looking hard at Lady Ingleton. "I have no
ties."

He shook her hand and went away.

That evening she said to her husband:

"I have felt sorry for myself occasionally, and for other people in my
Christian moments, but I have never in the past felt so sorry for any
one as I feel now for Mr. Leith."

"Because of the tragedy which has marred his life?"

"It isn't only that. He's on the edge of so much."

"You don't mean----?"

Sir Carey paused.

"No, no," Lady Ingleton said, almost impatiently. "Life hasn't done with
that man yet. I could almost find it in my heart to wish it had. Shall
we take him to Brusa on the yacht? That would advertise our acquaintance
with him to all the gossips on the Bosporus. I promised Cynthia I would
throw my mantle over him."

"I'm always ready for a visit to your only rival," said Sir Carey.

"La Mosquee Verte! I'll think about it. We might go for three or four
days."

Her warm voice sounded rather reluctant; yet her husband knew that she
wished to go.

"It would be an excellent way of showing your mantle to the gossips," he
remarked. "But you always think of excellent ways."

Two days later the Embassy yacht, the "Leyla," having on board Sir Carey
and Lady Ingleton, Mrs. Clarke, Cyril Vane, Dion, and Turkish Jane, the
doyenne of the Pekinese, sailed for Mudania on the sea of Marmora, which
is the Port of Brusa.

CHAPTER V

On the day after the return of the "Leyla" from Mudania, Mrs. Clarke
asked Dion if he would dine w