She smiled also through her tears. "Why don't you call me a humbug? Well, listen! It was like this. One night in the beginning of the winter Bertie and I had a disagreement about Nap. It wasn't at all important. But I had to stick up for him, because I had chanced to see him just before he left in the summer--you remember--when he was very, very miserable?" "I remember," said Lucas. He spoke rather wearily, but his eyes never left her face. He was listening intently. "And I was frightfully sorry for him," proceeded Dot, "though at the time I didn't know what was the matter. And I couldn't let Bertie say horrid things about him. So I fired up. And then Bertie told me"--she faltered a little--"about Nap caring for Lady Carfax. And that was where the trouble began. He didn't give him credit for really loving her, whereas I knew he did." Strong conviction sounded in Dot's voice. The blue eyes that watched her opened a little. "That so?" said Lucas. "Oh, I was sure," she said. "I was sure. There are some things a woman can't help knowing. It was the key to what I knew before. I understood--at once." "And then?" said Lucas. "Then, of course, I remembered that Lady Carfax was free. And I asked Bertie if he knew. You see, I thought it possible that in her heart she might be caring for him too. I knew they had always been friends. And Sir Giles was such a brute to her. No woman could ever have loved him. I think most people couldn't help knowing that. And it seemed only fair that Nap should know that Sir Giles was dead. I told Bertie so. He didn't agree with me." Dot paused and vigorously dried her eyes. "I still don't think he was right," she said. "P'r'aps not." Lucas spoke meditatively. "There's a good deal to be said for woman's intuition," he said. "It seemed to me a matter of fair play," maintained Dot. "He didn't know where Nap was, only his club address. And he wouldn't write himself, so I just wrote a single line telling Nap that Sir Giles was dead, and sent it off that night. I didn't tell Bertie. It didn't seem to matter much then, and I knew it might be ages before Nap got it. But now that that line has brought him back, I feel as if he ought to know--particularly as Bertie is so angry with him for returning. And Anne too--Anne nearly fainted when she saw him. I felt as if I had landed everybody in a hopeless muddle." Again Dot wiped her eyes. "And I had so wanted him to come," she ended. "Don't fret," said Lucas very kindly. "I wanted him too." She looked at him eagerly. "You think as I do? You think he cares for Anne?" "I guess so," he answered, "since your letter brought him back." "And--and Anne? Do you think--do you really think--?" "I guess so," he said again. He lay silent for a while, his eyes drooping heavily, till she even began to wonder if he were falling asleep. At length, "Dot," he said, "have I your permission to make what use I like of this?" She gave a slight start. "You are going to tell Bertie?"