He was about to go with some of the banal remarks which are made on such occasions when he was struck by the look which was on the young wife's face, and by the singularity of her attitude. She seemed to be in mortal terror. Shrinking back, cowering, she clung to her husband's arm, as if she was afraid that Spencer would have struck her. Nor did Herbert Nash wear the expression of beatitude which is supposed to be proper to a bridegroom who is returning from his honeymoon. It was apparently with an effort that he said to Robert Spencer-- "If you are going up by this train, Mr. Spencer, will you allow my wife and me to travel with you? If--if we can get a compartment to ourselves we have something to tell you, touching Miss Lindsay's affairs, which--which I think we ought to tell you." The separate compartment was found; and, as a consequence, between Littlehampton and London, Robert Spencer read human nature, as it were, by flashes of lightning. Both husband and wife laid bare their breasts to him; and what they left unsaid he saw between the lines. It was a journey neither of the trio ever forgot. By the time the train entered the terminus his soul shuddered at the thought of the mountain of wrong which had been laid upon the woman he loved; who, after all, was the merest girl. Yet, acutely though he felt for her, he felt also for the miserable pair who were in front of him; already they had probably suffered even more than Nora; and the worst of their sufferings were still to come. The three got into a four-wheeled cab and drove to Memorial Buildings. Mr. Clifford was out. Then, the clerk who received them asked if they were Messrs. Morgan and Nash. "This is Mr. Nash," explained the Honourable Robert, "but my name's Spencer. Has Mr. Morgan been here?" No, he had not. Mr. Clifford had been at the office till eleven o'clock; and had then left word that if Messrs. Nash and Morgan called in his absence they were to be informed that he had gone to Mr. Hooper, of Fountain Court, Temple, where they would find him if they liked to follow. CHAPTER XXXIII THE AUTOGRAPH ALBUM Mr. Hooper, leaning back in his chair, surveyed his cousin as if he were some strange animal. "Although your conduct strikes me as--shall I say?--abnormal, I don't wish to insinuate anything disagreeable, my dear Frank; still, if you are sane I wish you'd prove it." Mr. Clifford passed his handkerchief across his brow, as if he found the temperature trying. "It's all very well to laugh--if you're supposed to be laughing--but, if you were in my position, you'd find it no laughing matter. I'm to be married next week." "That is a prospect calculated to turn the strongest brain; granted!" "Look here, Jack, I'll throw something at you if you talk like that; I've come for sense, not idiocy. Under the circumstances Mr. Oldfield's continued absence--and silence--was pretty bad to bear; and now to be told he's dead----"