"Why?" asked the girl, looking at him in what his guilty conscience told him was a searching way. Conscious that he had said an awkward thing, which he had, having regard to his position, Owain strove to turn it off with a laugh. "I am not vain enough to wish for admiration. I leave that to the Nuts and the Nibs." "Horrid, conceited young men," said Gwen, as she fell into step beside him. "I do detest that class of person." "Then I hope you don't think that I belong to the class in question." "No. You're a man!" "A very faulty man." "I hope so. A perfect man would be horrid." "And a perfect woman?" asked Owain, peeping under her large hat. "There isn't such a thing." "There is," he insisted. "I know one, at all events." "Mrs. Perage would be very flattered if she heard you say that," said Gwen in a demure tone and smiling. "I don't mean Mrs. Perage, delightful as she is. I mean----" "Now, don't spoil things with explanations," interrupted Miss Evans quickly. "Are you to pay all the compliments?" "I don't pay compliments. I say that you are a man, because you saved my life and don't talk about yourself as those horrid Nuts do. If you were like them I shouldn't ask you to assist me." Owain nodded comprehendingly. "I hope we will be successful," he said soberly, "but the task is a difficult one!" "To me more than to you it is difficult," said Gwen, colouring. "For to make you understand I have to say things about my father which I would rather leave unspoken." "Leave them unspoken," advised Hench coolly. "I have learned quite enough from Mrs. Perage to know that your father was a man who made many enemies. One of them murdered him; which one we have to find out." "How are we to begin?"