For a second he thought she would strike him. The cold fury of the
pale peaked face, the haughty set of the lips, the blaze of the great
brown eyes, heralded violence....

Every never moved.

With a sudden movement Andre turned her head to stare into the
distance. At length--

"I've lost all I had in this estate--this venture ... and a lot
that--that wasn't mine," she said slowly. "Is that good enough?"

Before the weariness of her tone, Every's resentment went down with a
rush.

"I'm most awfully sorry," he said gently. "I'd no idea of this. I
don't think any one has. Of course, if I'd known for a moment that you
were--er--interested, I shouldn't have dreamed of moving in the matter
without your consent." He hesitated. Then-- "But surely you can
recover something. I mean, the place can be sold, and I'm sure the
solicitors would see to it that you----"

Andre gave a dry laugh.

"I hardly think they'd allow my claim," she said shortly.

Every swallowed before replying.

"You could try," he said desperately.

"Fool," said the girl contemptuously. "It's not a question of money.
It's a question of men." And with that she fell to whistling under her
breath.

Every decided that she was mad.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," he said stiffly. "What I'm doing, I'm
doing with the approval of Mr. Plowman, solicitor to Colonel
Winchester--he's the owner of this park: and, if you apply----"

"Yes, I know that," said Andre quietly. "But for this park, I should
be Mrs. Winchester."

The scales fell from Every's eyes. The picture of the giant, of whom
Plowman had told him, pacing a madman's cage, rose up before him, and a
great wave of pity for his companion swept into his heart. It occurred
to him suddenly that, but for the grace of God, Valerie French would
stand by this strange girl's side....

"Think you understand, don't you?" sneered Andre. She laughed shortly.
"You've got a lot to learn yet. First of all, my friend, this isn't a
park. It's a temple. The very place you're standing on is holy
ground. And those clowns you're sacking are priests--sworn to moil and
toil for Gramarye until she's sucked the brains out of their heads.
And you're spoiling her game ... I should go carefully, if I were you,
my friend. And if you get safe out of her to-day, I shouldn't come
back--_if you can help it_... I don't want to be rude, but she's
brought down bigger game than you--far bigger.... And th