Rotten? Of course it was. I'd no business to gabble, and just because you and your new job, Mag, came to my mind at that minute, there I went putting my foot in it. Moriway laughed. I didn't like the sound of his laugh. "Your reader is versatile, Mr. Latimer," he said. "Yes." Latimer smoothed the soft silk rug that lay over him. "Poverty and that sort of versatility are often bedfellows, eh?... Tell me, Mr. Moriway, these lost diamonds are yours?" "No. They belong to a--a friend of mine, Mrs. Kingdon." "Oh! the old lady who was married this afternoon to a young fortune-hunter!" I couldn't resist it. Moriway jumped out of his seat. "She was not married," he stuttered. "She--" "Changed her mind? How sensible of her! Did she find out what a crook the fellow was? What was his name--Morrison? No--Middleway--I have heard it." "May I ask, Miss Omar"--I didn't have to see his face; his voice told how mad with rage he was--"how you come to be acquainted with a matter that only the contracting parties could possibly know of?" "Why, they can't have kept it very secret, the old lady and the young rascal who was after her money, for you see we both knew of it; and I wasn't the bride and you certainly weren't the groom, were you?" An exclamation burst from him. "Mr. Latimer," he stormed, "may I see you a moment alone?" Phew! That meant me. But I got up just the same. "Just keep your seat, Miss Omar." Oh, that silken voice of Latimer's! "Mr. Moriway, I have absolutely no acquaintance with you. I never saw you till to-night. I can't imagine what you may have to say to me, that my secretary--Miss Omar acts in that capacity--may not hear." "I want to say," burst from Moriway, "that she looks the image of the boy Nat, who stole Mrs. Kingdon's diamonds, that the voice is exactly the same, that--" "But you have said it, Mr. Moriway--quite successfully intimated it, I assure you." "She knows of my--of Mrs. Kingdon's marriage, that that boy Nat found out about." "And you yourself also, as Miss Omar mentioned." "Myself? Damn it, I'm Moriway, the man she was going to marry. Why shouldn't I--" "Ah--h!" Latimer's shoulders shook with a gentle laugh. "Well, Mr. Moriway, gentlemen don't swear in my garden. Particularly when ladies are present. Shall we say good evening? Here comes Mulhill now.... Nothing, Sergeant? Too bad the rogue escaped, but you'll catch him. They may get away from you, but they never stay long, do they? Good evening--good evening, Mr. Moriway." They tramped on and out, Moriway's very back showing his rage. He whispered something to the Sergeant, who turned to look at me but shook his head, and the gate clanged after them. A long sigh escaped me. "Warm, isn't it?" Latimer leaned forward. "Now, would you mind ringing again, Miss Omar?" I bent and groped for the bell and rang it twice.