"She is certainly brave." Beryl knew she was a brute because she could not work up an enthusiastic interest in Christina Colebrook. "It will be wonderful if she is cured." Sault's voice was hushed. "I daren't let myself think about it--in fact, I shall be more bitterly disappointed than she, if the treatment does not succeed." "You are very fond of her?" She had been examining his face as he spoke, wondering what there was in him that she had seen at their first meeting which reminded her of Ronnie. There was not a vestige of likeness between them. This man's face, for all its strength, was coarse; the eyes were the only fine features it possessed. And the skin--there was a yellow-brown tinge in it. She remembered her father saying once that people who had negro blood in their veins betrayed their origin even though they were quite white, by a dark half-moon on their finger-nails. Whilst he was speaking, he moved his hands so that his nails were discernible. They were ugly nails, broad and ragged of edge--yes, there it was--a brown crescent showing against the deep pink. "Yes, I'm fond of her. She is lovable. I haven't met anybody like Christina before." Why was she annoyed? Perhaps "annoyed" hardly described her emotion. She was disappointed in him. Her attitude toward Sault was enigmatical--it was certainly capricious. She was a little nauseated and was glad when he went. Sault carried the suitcase to the club and left it with a porter. He wished he had an excuse for calling every day at the house--the sight of her exalted him, raised him instantly to a higher plane. He saw Evie walking home in front of him; she saw him, stopped and became interested in a shop window. She always avoided him in the street and would not dream of walking with him. In the kitchen, to which she followed him, she condescended to speak. "You were looking very pleased with yourself when I saw you in High Street, Mr. Sault," she said. "Was I--yes, I was feeling good. You're home early tonight, Evie." Mrs. Colebrook had a washing day and was at her labors in the scullery, and Evie could flare up without reproof. "I'm so glad you notice when I come in, and go out!" she said. "It is nice to know that all your movements are watched. I suppose I ought to ask your permission when I stay out late? We always like to please the lodger!" He looked down into the pretty flushed face and smiled gently. "I believe you are trying to be cross with me, Evie," he said good-naturedly, "and I don't feel like being cross with anybody. My dear, it is no business of mine--" "Don't call me 'my dear', if you please! You have a nerve to 'my dear' me! A man like you!" Sault's knuckle touched his chin awkwardly. "I didn't mean to be offensive--" "You _are_ offensive! You are the most beastly offensive person I know! You go prying and spying into my business and telling lies about gentlemen whose boots you're not fit to blacken."