"Why are you so painfully thin?" he pursued relentlessly. "What's the matter with you? When I saw you in church just now I had a positive shock." She put out her hand to him. "I am quite all right," she assured him, still faintly smiling. "I should have sent for you if I hadn't been." "It's high time you sent for me now," said Tudor. He looked at her searchingly through his glasses, holding her hand firmly clasped in his. "Are you happy?" he asked her suddenly. She started at the question, started and flushed. "Why--why do you ask me that?" she said in confusion. "Because you don't look it," he said plainly. "No, don't be vexed with me! I speak as a friend--a friend who desires your happiness more than anything else on earth. And do you know, I think I should see a doctor pretty soon if I were you. If you don't, you will probably regret it. Get Piers to take you up to town! Maxwell Wyndham is about the best man I know. Go to him!" "Thank you," Avery said. "Perhaps I will." It was at this point that a sudden uproarious laugh sounded from below the window near which they sat, Avery looked round startled, and Tudor frowned. "It's that little brute of a best man--drunk as a lord. He's some sort of cousin of Guyes', just home from Australia; and the sooner he goes back the better for the community at large, I should say." "Piers knows him!" broke almost involuntarily from Avery. And with that swiftly she turned her head to listen, for the man outside had evidently gathered to himself an audience at the entrance of a tent that had been erected for refreshments, and was declaiming at the top of his voice. "Eric Denys was the name of the man. He was a chum of mine. Samson we used to call him. This Evesham fellow killed him in the first round. I've never forgotten it. I recognized him the minute I set eyes on him, though it's years ago now. And he recognized me! I wish you'd seen his face." Again came the uncontrolled, ribald laughter. "A bully sort of squire, eh? I suppose he's a justice of the peace now, a law-giver, eh? Damn funny, I call it!" Tudor was on his feet. He looked at Avery, but she sat like a statue, making no sign. Another man was speaking in a lower tone, as though he were trying to restrain the first; but his efforts were plainly useless, for the best man had more to say. "Oh, I can tell you a Queensland crowd is no joke. He'd have been manhandled if he hadn't bolted. Mistaken? Not I! Could anyone mistake a face like that? Go and ask the man himself, if you don't believe me! You'll find he won't deny it!" "Shall we go?" suggested Tudor brusquely. Avery made a slight movement, wholly mechanical; but she did not turn her head. Her whole attitude was one of tense listening. "I think I'll go in any case," said Tudor, after a moment. "That fellow will make an exhibition of himself if someone doesn't interfere." He went to the door, but before he reached it Avery turned in her chair and spoke.