"I think I'll go over to The Chase now, mother. It's impossible to say all that one wants to say over the telephone." She said nervously, "Won't you finish your breakfast?" and to her surprise he obeyed her. To her surprise also, when at last he did get up he seemed in no great hurry to go. "Shall I come with you, my darling?" she said. He shook his head. "No, mother. I'd rather discuss the matter with her alone, but I'll make her come over as early as I can. You know she said she would bring Alice to lunch to-day." And then, looking straight down into her troubled face, he asked: "Mother? What do _you_ think has happened to Godfrey Pavely?" It was the first time he had asked her the direct question. "I don't know what to think! But I suppose the most probable thing is--that he's had an accident. After all, people do meet with bad accidents, especially in wintry, foggy weather, in the London streets. If so, he may be lying unconscious in one of the big hospitals. I can't think why the London police shouldn't have been told of his disappearance on Friday--that, as I told Laura yesterday, is the first thing I should have done myself." "Both Mrs. Winslow and Laura seemed to think he would dislike that so very much," said Oliver slowly. There was a defensive note in his voice, for he had made no effort to back up his mother when she had strongly counselled Laura to communicate with Scotland Yard. "Has it ever occurred to you," he said suddenly, "that Pavely may be dead, mother?" "No, Oliver. That I confess has not occurred to me. In fact, I regard it as extremely unlikely." "Why that?" he asked in a hard voice. "People are often killed in street accidents." Then, after a minute's pause: "Do you think Laura would mind much?" "I think it would give her a great shock!" She added, hesitatingly. "They have been getting on rather better than usual--at least so it has seemed to me." "Have they indeed?" His words cut like a whip, and she got up and went and stood by him. "My son," she said very solemnly. "Oh, my darling, don't allow yourself to wish--to hope--for Godfrey Pavely's death!" Looking straight into her face, he exclaimed, "I can't help it, mother! I do hope, I do wish, for Godfrey Pavely's death--with all the strength, with all the power that is in me. Why should I be hypocritical--with you? Am I the first man that has committed murder," he waited a moment--"in his heart?" "If that be really so--then don't let it ever be suspected, Oliver! For God's sake, try and look differently from what you have looked the last few days! If your wish is to be granted, your hope satisfied, then don't let any one suspect that the hope or the wish was ever there!" She spoke with an intensity of feeling and passion equal to his own. "You're right, mother," he said in a low voice. "I know you're right! And I promise you that I'll try and follow your advice. No man ever had a wiser and a better mother than I!"