“No. I’m a stupid sort of a fellow, or perhaps I’d understand better what’s wrong. The only thing definite that I can lay hold of is, that she gets sudden spasms of hatred, and it’s—well, it’s like looking into a red-hot hell. I don’t know how else to describe it. She always had a bit of a temper, you know, but this is different. And”—his voice dropped a little and lost its steadiness for a moment—“the animals won’t go near her sometimes.” There was a queer strange silence for a minute across which the laughter outside broke like a jangling wire. “I expect she’s treated them unjustly,” said North, conscious even as he spoke of the futility of his reason. “Dogs never resent where they care,” said Riversley briefly. “It’s not that. They—they are afraid of her for some reason, and it’s horribly uncanny sometimes. I thought perhaps if she came down here without me, had a rest from me you know, it would help her a bit.” North nodded. “I think you are wise. I hope it’s only a passing phase. She’s been through a stiff time, and we are none of us yet quite normal, I fancy.” “It isn’t as if she’d care for me,” Riversley went on steadily. “I took my risk, and I’d take it again, and I’m not blaming her, mind you. And I’m only telling you about it because she seems to hang on to you, and you’ll be able to help her better if you know.” “Yes, I understand that,” returned North. He felt, as a matter of fact, particularly helpless. What Riversley had just told him, coupled with Violet’s outburst to himself that afternoon, worried and disturbed him not a little. He remembered those words of hers: “Sometimes I am frightened.” The words overwrought, hysterical, long-strained, jumbled in his mind and brought no comfort. Then suddenly, like a hand stretched out to a stumbling man, came the thought of Thorpe, its radiant peace, the steady eyes of Ruth Seer. And with that came the thought of Dick Carey. He looked across at Riversley. “There’s one thing I’d like to tell you,” he said, “and that is, Dick wished Violet had chosen you instead of himself. He felt somehow that you were really better suited to her.” Riversley’s eyes met his in blank amazement. “Dick thought that?” “He always felt he was too old for Vi. But she was desperately in love with him, and he knew it, and you know old Dick. Besides, Vi could twist almost any man round her little finger. But that he would have been glad if her choice had fallen on you instead of himself, I have no doubt whatever.” Riversley stood up, filling his chest with a long breath. “Thank you for telling me,” he said. “It’s a help.”