With his elbows resting on the table and his fingers interlocked, he gazed at her for a few seconds with a sort of sad, wistful earnestness. Then clearing his voice he said: "I am a poor hand at a preface, or at leading up by degrees to anything I may have to say. In short, I cannot beat about the bush." For a moment he paused, and again he cleared his voice. "Denia, it has come to my knowledge that you and Richard Dyson were together in the garden at midnight on Tuesday. It was your hand that admitted him by way of the side-door." He ceased, as though to afford her time to recover herself. The pallor of her face gave way to a great wave of colour which surged quickly up from her bosom to her cheeks and thence to the roots of her hair. For a few moments it remained thus, at high-water mark as it were, and then began to subside. "His arm was round you," continued Robert, "he kissed you and you did not repulse him Only one inference can be drawn--that he and you are in love with each other." Denia's bosom rose with the slow indrawing of her breath. It was one of those supreme moments when, brought to bay, one's whole future course in life may depend on the next few sentences that fall from one's lips. "I believed that Richard Dyson loved me, but now I know that I was mistaken," said Denia in a low voice. "I loved him (or, perhaps, I only dreamt I did), but now--I hate him!" "You hate him!" exclaimed Robert. "And yet, less than thirty-six hours ago, you allowed him unreproved to press his lips to yours." "A great deal may happen in thirty-six hours. I loved him then. I hate him now." "So be it. Whatever reasons may have influenced you in this sudden change of feeling are no concern of mine. What, however, does seem to concern me (and you yourself can best infer why), and what I must ask you to afford me some explanation of, is a certain threat which you made use of to Dyson on Tuesday night. You bade him beware in that his secret was your property, that you 'held his life in the hollow of your hand.' Now, will you be good enough to tell me to what those words referred?" Denia's hesitation was of the briefest. For a moment or two she set her teeth hard, then with a little nod of her head she said: "Yes, Mr. Melray, I will tell you--will tell you everything. From this moment there shall be no more secrets between you and me. I used those words to Richard Dyson because to his hand was due the death of my husband and your brother!" Robert Melray sank back in his chair with a gasp. "You have known this all along, and yet you have kept it hidden from everyone in your own breast!" he contrived to say after a time. "I have known it all along, and yet I have kept it hidden from everyone," came like an echo from Denia's lips. Robert knew not what to say. Never had he been so utterly at a loss for words. There was a space of silence while the two sat confronting each other. Denia was the first to break it.