"I should think not; there were all sorts of things; she kept on for a devil of a time. But I can't remember just what they were just now--strange how you do forget things. Oh yes! there was one thing--I remember one thing!--most extraordinary thing. She said, 'You see that fireplace'. Of course there wasn't a fireplace; she was standing right back in front of a window. Absurd! But she saw it--stake my life she saw it--you could tell. 'There's something about that fireplace which I ought to see, but I can't think what it is; something which I ought to understand, but I can't. If I only could!' You never heard anything like the way she said it; you never heard anything more impressive on the stage--positive fact! 'You see those two wooden posts,' she went on. Of course I saw nothing of the kind, because, as I've told you, there was nothing to see--I don't see things. 'Those two pillar things, I mean, which have been carved out of the woodwork of the mantelpiece, one on either side, just near the bottom. Do you know, Gregory, I believe that there's something about those two posts which I ought to see, which I ought to understand! But I can't! I can't!' Give you my word that she began to cry; twisted her hands together and went on like anything--actually. Seemed so silly! 'I believe,' she cried,' that if I could only see, if I could only understand, I should know where Cuthbert Grahame's money is, that I should find the quarter of a million which is lost.'" As Mr. Lamb gave a dramatic imitation of his wife's manner, which, considering all the circumstances, was not so bad, Margaret, who hitherto had remained in the background, came to the front with a question. "Are you sure she said that there was something about those two posts which--if she saw, if she understood it--would make known to her where Cuthbert Grahame's money was?" Mr. Lamb had something of an aggrieved air as he replied. "Am I sure? Of course I'm sure; I shouldn't say she said it if I wasn't sure. My statements are absolutely to be relied upon, Miss Whoever-you-are." The doctor glanced from Mr. Lamb to Margaret. "What's he mean, or what's she mean about two wooden posts? It's all double Dutch to me; I don't understand in the least. Is it any plainer to you?" "I think that it is all quite plain to me; that I can understand what she doesn't; that I can see what she can't." Her voice sank. Although she spoke gently her tones, to adopt Mr. Lamb's word, were most "impressive". "I believe that, unwittingly, she has delivered herself into my hands; that the duel which she and I are fighting has advanced another stage; that soon we shall be exchanging shots; and that then there will be but one of us two left to tell how it all fell out." CHAPTER XXIX MARGARET PAYS A CALL