I went home, and sat in stunned silence, staring into space. I went to bed and lay awake for hours, still pondering, still puzzling. I rose in the morning, and wandered about the flat like a lost dog, unable to work, unable to rest, unable to eat. By evening I was in such a state of nerves that it seemed impossible to endure the suspense a moment longer. The prospect of another wakeful night gave the final touch to my impatience. I scribbled a note to Mr Thorold, begging him to come down at once, and sent the orphan upstairs to deliver it. He came at once; quite anxious and perturbed. Was I ill? Had I had bad news? Was there anything he could do? I motioned him to a chair, and began vaguely:-- "Not bad news--at least--a shock! I've had a shock! It has distressed me terribly! I couldn't sleep. It was Mr Travers. I was reading to him again yesterday, and he said something about Mr Hallett. It appears that he knew him years ago." Mr Thorold's face hardened. I had seen him in almost every phase of sadness and anxiety, but never with that flash in the eye, that sternness of the lips. His voice was cold and sharp. "Travers? Indeed! And what had Travers to say? Nothing good, if I know the man." "He--he spoke of Mr Hallett's wife--" "And you were not aware that he had a wife? It is an old story, Miss Harding; an old sore. Is it necessary to tell one's whole life history to--er--an--" "An acquaintance? No, no--of course not. Don't think me presumptuous and inquisitive. I should never have mentioned it, if I had not a reason--a good reason. Have I ever seemed to pry into your affairs?" He softened at that. "Never! Never! You have been all that is tactful--all that is kind. I do trust you, Miss Harding, but this affair of Hallett's gets me on the raw. He has suffered tortures. I have seen his suffering, and I can't help feeling bitter against that woman. She--left him! That's what you heard, I suppose?" "Yes. And so soon! It was a tragedy indeed. Mr Thorold, will you answer just one question? It can do no harm; it can give away no secrets. What was her Christian name?" He looked at me keenly for a moment, and then said quietly:-- "Charmion." I lay back in my chair, and shut my eyes. Never in my life have I fainted, but I think I must have come very near it then. Everything turned black; for a moment my very heart seemed to stop. Mr Thorold's voice sounded far away, as he cried anxiously:-- "You are ill--faint! I'll open the window--give you more air." Then with an eagerness which could not be suppressed, "You know her? Hallett's wife? Is it possible? You have met her; or--have you only heard--" His anxiety made his voice shake. He was as much overcome as I was myself. "For six years," he added tragically--"six years he has searched the world--." "I--I know a Charmion. She left her husband. It may be a coincidence, but it seems strange. She had good cause--"