“Thank you,” she answered simply. Then, with a return to her usual manner: “Sybil’s much better. Dr. Gregg was here this afternoon and he says she may see people, in reason, if they don’t stay too long. But she’s not to be excited, so don’t let her talk about Leslie’s affairs, Uncle Fayre.” “I won’t, if I can possibly help it,” promised Fayre with all his heart. The last thing he wanted, at this juncture, was to share his knowledge with Sybil Kean. He could not forget that, at any moment, her life might be in Gregg’s hands and, so long as she was dependent on him, he resolved to do nothing to shake her confidence in him. “She’s anxious to see you,” went on Cynthia. “But Eve and Bill have both been with her and they think she’s had enough people for to-day. She wants to see you first thing to-morrow, though, and I’m afraid she means to go on with what we were saying on the day she was taken ill.” “She’s a wilful woman, too,” he said ruefully. “She’ll probably have her way. I’m no match for her.” Cynthia laughed. “You old fraud! Even I have seen you twiddle people round your finger before now. As for shutting up, you’re like a clam when you choose!” After tea Fayre joined his host in the library. “I feel I owe you both thanks and an apology,” he said slowly, as he filled his pipe. “You’ve been a brick over this business, Bill. You’ve let me have the car at all hours, and use your house like a hotel and you’ve never asked what I’m up to or even when I’m going! You must want to know that, I should think, by now!” Bill Staveley chucked a box of matches over to Fayre, who caught it neatly. “That’s the third! You’ve got two boxes of mine in your pocket now,” he murmured. “I saw them go in.” Then, as Fayre turned out his pockets and sheepishly revealed three boxes of matches, he went on: “Don’t be an old ass, old man, and stop handing round compliments. I like watching you trotting about, so happy and busy! As for asking questions, I never believe in butting in on other people’s affairs. So long as I know you’re on the job, I’m satisfied. And stay as long as you like. If you don’t know how Eve and I feel about that, I’m not going to indulge your vanity by telling you!” “It’s something to know that I’ve got you both behind me,” said Fayre soberly. “You can count on that, old chap.” Bill Staveley had abandoned his usual easy banter and spoke seriously enough now. “Personally, I’d put my shirt on that boy’s innocence, and I know Eve feels the same. Tell us as much or as little as you like; we don’t care provided you clear him. And if any one can do it, I believe it’s you. Only, if you’ve got any nefarious schemes up your sleeve, remember that I’m a J. P. and keep them to yourself. I don’t want to know anything about them!” Fayre chuckled.