Well may the rapidity of thought be employed as a synonym for the uttermost conception of speed. Simultaneously with the tremendous mental shock of beholding this man again under such horrible, such undreamed-of circumstances--above the resultant seeming cessation of all the wheels of life within her body, the sudden uncontrollable shivering that shook her from head to foot--she became conscious that her brain was frantically urging her to instantly do something by which to account for this physical agitation--something to explain this uncontrollable display of emotion. It prompted the method. She followed it without a second's hesitation. Before any of the men had turned their gaze upon her, she had deliberately let go of the vase she carried. It fell heavily, and was smashed into a dozen pieces. Down on her knees she sank, bending her head low, as, with trembling hands, she gathered together the nearest fragments. Her actions were quite instinctive; her whole mind was bent on the recovery of her self-control. And she succeeded. When, after a minute's respite, she did dare lift her face, it was marked by no traces of greater concern than could easily be accounted for as the result of this embarrassing accident. If Morris Kenyon, seeing her again with equal unexpectedness, had been guilty of any dramatic start or exclamation, it had passed quite unnoticed. All attention was turned upon Evarne, and Geoff was already by her side. "My dear, what is the matter?" She would not meet his eyes; her own might be too full of emotion. She sought to speak, but no words came. Geoff grew alarmed. "Are you feeling ill? Can I do anything? Never mind those silly broken pieces. Tell me!" She made a tremendous effort. She could--she should--answer him rationally and calmly. "I'm frightened, Geoff," she whispered quickly and very softly--"after what I learnt this morning. You understand? His voice sounded so hard, and he looks so stern. I was frightened." He put his hand over hers and pressed it sympathetically, but no more could be said in confidence. The three other men had approached. "What's happened, Miss Stornway?" inquired Jack. Geoff explained. "She's tired, that's all. She ought to have rested long ago." Evarne spoke for herself. "I'm so dreadfully grieved to have broken this beautiful vase. I can't think how I came to drop it. Oh, I am so sorry." "It doesn't matter the least bit," Geoff declared emphatically. Evarne was now seated on the edge of the throne, and for a minute the four men stood in a semicircle, silently surveying her. She could have wrung her hands in agony under this scrutiny. "Please don't bother about me any longer," she cried, and there were traces of rising excitement in her voice. "I am so sorry to have made such a stupid disturbance. Please, please leave me alone now. There's nothing the matter with me." Geoff took her at her word.