"Stop!" said Leavesley, "you'll burst!" "I'm better now," said Mr Verneede, placing the jug, half empty, on the floor, and passing his hand across his brow. "Then go on and tell me all about it." Verneede had no recollection of anything at all save a few more or less unpleasant incidents. He remembered the "Spotted Dog," the "King's Arms"; he remembered streets; he remembered being turned out of somewhere. "Tell you about what?" "Good gracious--about the Lamberts, of course. What time did you get there?" "Half-past two, I think." "You couldn't; you only left the studio at two." "Half-past four, I mean; yes, it was half-past four." "When did you leave?" Verneede scratched his head. "Six." "You saw Miss Lambert?" "Yes." "Look here, Verneede, you were all right when you got there, I hope?" "Perfectly, absolutely." "What did you talk about?" "We talked of various topics." "Did you mention my name?" "Ah yes," said Verneede, "I told her what you said." "What?" "About your going to Australia." "America, you owl," cried Leavesley. "America, I mean--America, of course--America." "What did she say?" "She said--she hoped you'd have a fine voyage, that the weather would be fine, in short, or words to that effect." Leavesley sighed. "Was that all she said?" "Absolutely." "Did you say anything about the letter I wrote her?" "Yes; I remembered that." "But I told you _not_." "It escaped me," said Verneede weakly. "What did she say?" "She said it didn't matter; at least that is what I gathered from her." "How do you mean gathered from her?" "From her manner." Leavesley sighed again, and Verneede leaned back on his pillow. He did not know in the least whether he had been at Lamberts' or not--he hoped he hadn't. _PART V_ CHAPTER I GOUT Since her visit to Leavesley Miss Hancock felt certain that her system of petty espionage had been discovered: the question remained as to what course her brother would take. He had as yet said nothing.