He knelt just inside the parapet, and pushed the board slowly out into the dark until it rested on the parapet of the next window. “Will you go first, or shall I?” he whispered. “I will.” Jane felt sure that, if she had to watch Arnold balancing on that plank miles above the ground, she would never be able to cross it herself. The reflection that it was Renata, and not she, who would have to make the descent fortified her considerably. Even so, she never quite knew how she crossed to the other window. It was an affair of clenched teeth and a mind that shut out resolutely everything except the next groping clutch of the hand—the next carefully taken step. She sank against the window-sill and heard Arnold follow her. Just at the end he slipped; he seemed to change his feet, and then with a heavy thud pitched down on the top of Jane. She thought he said “Damn!” and she was quite sure that she said “Idiot!” There was an awful moment while they listened for the fall of the plank, but it held to the coping by a bare half-inch. “Thank goodness I’m not Renata!” said Jane, with heartfelt sincerity. And— “Thank goodness, you’re not!” returned Mr. Todhunter, with equal fervour, and at that moment the window opened. There was a little sobbing gasp, and a girl was clinging to Arnold Todhunter and whispering: “Darling—darling, I thought you’d never come.” Arnold crawled through the open window, and from the pitch-black hall there came the sounds of demonstrative affection. “Good gracious me, there’s no accounting for tastes!” said Jane, under her breath. And she too climbed down into the darkness. Arnold appeared to be trying to explain Jane to Renata, whilst Renata alternated between sobs and kisses. Jane lost her temper, suddenly and completely. “For goodness’ sake, you two, come where there’s a light, and where we can talk sense. Every minute you waste is just asking for trouble. What’s that room with the light?” It is difficult to be impressive in a low whisper, but Renata did stop kissing Arnold. “My bedroom,” she said—“I’m supposed to be locked in.” Jane groped in the dark and got Renata by the arm. “Come along in there and talk to me. We’ve got to talk. Arnold can wait outside the window. I don’t want him in the least. You’re going to spend the rest of your life with him in Bolivia, so you needn’t worry. I simply won’t have him whilst we are talking.” Arnold loathed Jane a little more, but Renata allowed herself to be detached from him with a sob. Inside the lighted bedroom the two girls looked at one another in an amazed silence. In height and contour, feature and colouring, the likeness was without a flaw. Facing them was a small wardrobe of painted wood. A narrow panel of looking-glass formed the door. The two figures were reflected in it, and Jane, tossing her hat on to the bed, studied them there with a long, careful scrutiny.