There was a pause, and then in a rather different voice Mrs. Bliss went on, "I _do_ get my money from Mrs. Germaine, but lately,--well, I won't say lately, but for the last eighteen months or so, _she's always paid me in notes_, two, three, sometimes four hundred pounds at a time, always in five-pound notes." She spoke in a low voice, and yet, to Oliver Germaine, it seemed as if she shouted the words aloud. The young man got up, and, careless of the lateness of the hour, walked away without looking around towards the Marble Arch; so alone could he be sure that Mrs. Bliss would not see him, and perchance leap to the recollection of who he was. The words the woman had said so quietly seemed to be reverberating with loud insistence in his ear: "_She's always paid me in notes._" "_Two, three, sometimes four hundred pounds._" What exactly had Mrs. Bliss meant by this statement? What significance had she intended it to carry? There had been a touch of regret in the hard voice, a hesitation in the way she had conveyed the pregnant confidence, which made Oliver heartsick to remember. But after a time, as Oliver Germaine walked quickly along, uncaring as to which way he was going, almost running in his desire to outstrip his own thoughts, there came a little lightening of his bewildered misery. It was possible, just possible, that Mrs. Bliss was really thinking of some other customer. Notes? The idea was really absurd to anyone who knew Bella, as he, Oliver, thank God, knew his wife! Why, there was never any loose money in the house, both he and Bella were always running short of petty cash. Then the young man remembered, with a sudden tightening of the heart, that this had not been the case lately. During the last few months, since they had moved into their new house, Bella had always had money--plenty of sixpences and shillings, half crowns and half sovereigns--at his disposal. Nay more, looking back, he realised that his wife no longer teased him, as she had once perpetually teased him, for supplements, large or small, to her allowance; he had to face the fact that of late Bella's allowance had borne a surprising resemblance to the widow's cruse; it had actually sufficed for all her wants. But he had been unsuspecting, utterly unsuspecting, and even now he hardly knew what he did suspect. The horrible things he had heard Mrs. Bliss say about other people acted and reacted on Germaine's imagination. If these things were true, then the world in which he and Bella lived was corrupt and rotten; and, as even Oliver Germaine knew by personal experience, pitch defiles. If Daphne Slade did the things Mrs. Bliss implied she did, Bella must know it,--know it and condone it. Bella was far too clever to be taken in, as he, Oliver, had been taken in, by Mrs. Slade's pretty pathetic manner, and appealing eyes. If Mrs. Slade took money from men, what an example, what a model----Germaine's mind refused to complete the thought.