"No!" Steppe's jaw set like a trap. "Not to save Sault or any other man! There is nothing there to save him, I tell you. But if there was--I wouldn't open it. Get that into your mind, all of you." She regarded him thoughtfully, and then Ronnie. He looked in another direction. "I am taking the car, father." Even Steppe did not ask her where she was going. III Christina had known in the middle of the night when the police came to search Sault's room. A detective of high rank had been communicative; she heard the story with a serenity which filled the quaking Evie with wonder. If her face grew of a sudden peaked, a new glory glowed in her eyes. Mrs. Colebrook wept noisily and continued to weep throughout the night. Christina meditated upon an old suspicion of hers, that her mother regarded Ambrose Sault as being near enough the age of a lonely widow woman, to make possible a second matrimonial venture. This view Evie held definitely. "Oh, Chris--my dear, I am so sorry," whimpered the younger girl, when the police had taken their departure. "And I've said such horrid things about him. Chris, poor darling, aren't you feeling awful--I am." "Am I feeling sorry for Ambrose? No." Christina searched her heart before she went on. "I'm not sorry. Ambrose was so inevitably big. Something tremendous must come to him: it couldn't be otherwise." "I was afraid something might happen." Evie shook her head wisely. "This Greek man was very insulting. Ronnie told me that. And if poor Ambrose lost his temper--" "Ambrose did not lose his temper," Christina interrupted brusquely. "If Ambrose killed him, he did it because he intended doing it." "In cold blood!" Evie was horrified. "Yes: Ambrose must have had a reason. He tells me so--don't gape, Evie, I'm not delirious. Ambrose is here. If I were blind and deaf and he sat on this bed he would be here, wouldn't he? Presence doesn't depend on seeing or hearing or even feeling. He'd be here if he was not allowed to touch me. Go back to bed, Evie. I'm sleepy and I want to dream." Beryl arrived soon after eleven. Evie was out and Mrs. Colebrook, red-eyed, brought her up to the bedroom. Christina was sure the girl would come and had got up and dressed in readiness. Some time went by before they were alone. Mrs. Colebrook had her own griefs to express, her own memories to retail. She left at last singultient in her woe. "Do you think you are strong enough to come to the house?" asked Beryl. "I could call for you this afternoon. Perhaps you could stay with me for a few days. I feel that I want you near to me." This, without preliminary. They were too close to the elementals to pick nice paths to their objectives. They recognized and acknowledged their supreme interests as being common to both. "Mother would be glad to get rid of me for a day or two," said Christina. "And I am sending my father abroad," nodded Beryl, with a faint smile. "When shall I come?"