"I'm sorry I repeated Mrs. Winslow's tale. But of course it did impress me--it did influence me. I'd _like_ to believe it, Tropenell." The secret listener was surprised at the feeling which Gillie's vibrant voice betrayed. Oliver muttered something--was it, "I'd give my soul to know it true"? Then, in a lighter tone, Gillie exclaimed, "As to that other matter, I'd rather keep you out of the business altogether if I could! But I can't--quite." What was it that Oliver answered then? The two men were now walking slowly away towards the further end of the pergola. Mrs. Tropenell strained her ears to hear her son's answer: "I don't want to keep out of it." Was that what he said, in a very low, tense voice? Gilbert Baynton was speaking again: "It is _my_ idea, _my_ scheme, and I mean to carry it through! I shan't want much help--only quite a little help from you." And then she heard her son's voice again, and he was speaking more naturally this time. "Of course we'll go shares, Gillie! What d'you take me for? Am I to have all the profit, and you all the risk?" Mrs. Tropenell breathed more freely. They were off from Laura now, and on some business affair. She heard Gillie Baynton laugh aloud. "I'm quite looking forward to it--but it will be a longish job!" Oliver answered, "_I'm_ not looking forward to it. You feel quite sure about this thing, Baynton? There's time to draw back--now." "Sure? Of course I'm sure!" There was triumph, a challenge to fate, in the other's tone. "I've always liked playing for high stakes--you know that, eh?" "Ay, I know that----" "And I've never looked back. I've never regretted anything I've done in my life----" there was a ring of boastful assurance in Gilbert Baynton's tone. "I can't say that of myself--I wish I could." "You? Why, you've a milk-white record, compared to mine!" Mrs. Tropenell moved away swiftly over the grass, till she stood at the end of the dark, arched walk. Then, "Oliver!" she called out, "there's a message from Lord St. Amant. He wants to know if you can go over to the Abbey next week, from Saturday till Tuesday. He says there'll be some shooting. I told him you'd ring up before going to bed--I hope that was right." "Yes, mother. Of course I'll ring up. I'll go in and do it now, if you like. Gillie and I have been having a long business talk." And then she heard Gilbert Baynton: "I'll stay out here a bit longer, Mrs. Tropenell. I'm getting quite used to the cold and damp of the old country. I don't mind it as much as I did a week ago." Mother and son walked across the lawn to the house. When they were indoors, he broke silence first: "Gillie had a bad row with Pavely this afternoon. I don't think it's any use his staying on here. Pavely won't allow Laura to see him again at The Chase." Mrs. Tropenell uttered an exclamation of dismay.