That something, God knows what, that I might have said to Mackie when, after having eaten nothing, I had drunk with him. Kitty's own desperate possessiveness and jealousy. All these things fell into place as the coloured granules fall when the kaleidoscope is given a turn. I had been accused of being Miss Causton's lover! As I remain that divided Giant henceforward until the end of my tale, I will divide my name also, and tell you of a colloquy that began within me between these two men--the honest, human, enraged Jeffries, and that other, whom I will call James Herbert, at whose elbow stood the devil. "Ah!" choked Jeffries, flaming red. "Quietly, quietly!" whispered his interlocutor. "That's Merridew again!" choked the other. "Quietly--keep your face--there's a clerk in that window watching you!" "The whole world may see me--let me go and find him!" It was as if this Jeffries struggled to break away there and then. "No, no--sit still--leave it to me, and keep your face before this weeping woman--_I_ was born where they understand these things!" And after a hellish minute--the voice of that one prevailed. I turned to Kitty. "Good gracious!" I remember I said, with an air almost of amused incredulity. "Why, who on earth told you that ridiculous tale?" The one who came from the place where they understand these things was right. Kitty looked up. At first she seemed unable to believe her ears--unable to believe that I could treat the monstrous thing with amused disdain. Then, as she slowly realised, her face shone. She gave a quick glad cry. "Jeff!" "What, dear?" I said, smiling. She choked. "Oh ... my good, big man!" ("Laugh now," the wicked one prompted; and I laughed.) "Good heavens, what a tale!... Who told you? Archie? Just you see if I don't tweak that young man's ears!" In her infinite relief the poor woman broke down utterly. She shook with the mingled gratitude and humiliation of my pardon. "Louie Causton!" I scoffed. "You actually asked her that? Why, how she must have laughed!" "Oh--you're wonderful, Jeff!" Kitty adored me. "Oh," I replied, quickly recollecting myself, "don't think I'm not angry! I'll give that young man a jacket-dusting! He shall have a wedding present from me he'll remember, I promise you! Why, of all the mean tricks!..." I went on. Presently Kitty had found me so wonderful that once more she could even toy a little with a peril. "Louie wouldn't tell me ... who ... she said she'd die first...." she half sobbed by-and-by. I looked into her little puffed eyes. "Then," I said, smiling, "you've only the word of a not very trustworthy woman for it that after all ... eh?" A saint could hardly have cheapened the worshipping look she gave me. "So," I resumed presently, "that was what ailed you all last night, when I was thinking all the time it was my uniform?" "Yes--I tried hard to tell you, Jeff----"