oing to ask something in return," said Elaine, and smiled at him
frankly. "I want to know why you're running away from your Monte Carlo
friends."

Most women of Riviere's world would have cloaked their curiosity under
some conventional, indirect form of question. Her frank directness
struck him as refreshing, and he answered readily: "The lady you saw in
the Cote d'Azur Rapide was my sister-in-law, Mrs Matheson. Mrs Clifford
Matheson."

"The wife of that man!" she interrupted. There was anger and contempt in
her voice.

"You know him?"

"My father lost the last remains of his money in one of that man's
companies. It hastened his death."

"Which company?"

"The Saskatchewan Land Development Co. My father bought during the early
boom in the shares."

Riviere remembered that he himself had cleared L50,000 over the
flotation, and the remembrance jarred on him. The company was a
moderately successful one, but in its early days the shares had been
"rigged" to an unreal figure. Still, he felt compelled, almost against
his will, to defend his past action.

"Did he buy for investment or merely for speculation?" asked Riviere.

"I know very little about such matters."

"As an investment, it would to-day be paying a moderate dividend."

"My father had to sell again at a big loss."

"It sounds very like speculation."

"Possibly."

"I'm very sorry to hear of the loss; but a man who speculates in the
stock market must look out for himself. It's a risky game for the
outsider to play."

Elaine silently recognized the truth of his words. Then it came to her
suddenly that Riviere had, a few moments ago, used the word
"sister-in-law," and she said: "I was forgetting that Mr Matheson must
be a relative of yours."

"My half-brother."

She looked at him with a searching frankness that was in its way a tacit
compliment. He was radically different to the mental picture she had
formed of the financier.

He continued: "The lady you saw in the train was my sister-in-law. As
you already know, she expects me to join her at Monte Carlo. I don't
want to be drawn into that kind of life. I want to remain quiet. I have
important work to do."

"Scientific work, isn't it?"

"Yes. And there's a big stretch of it in front of me. That's why I'm not
travelling on to Monte Carlo. You understand my position now, Miss
Verney?"

"Quite."

"I'm right in calling you _Miss_ Verney?"

"Yes." Then she added: "And you're wondering why