“‘If I or she should chance to be Involved in this affair, I trust to you to set me free Exactly as we were.’” Tom had a retentive memory. Was Janet intentionally misquoting? Did she mean him to take the nonsense rhyme seriously? He glanced sharply at her, but her head was partly turned as she helped herself to the _vol-au-vent_. He waited for her full attention before answering. “It sounds like the unutterable tread of unsearchable circumstances,” he said. It was Janet’s turn to be mystified. “I don’t at all understand what you mean,” she admitted plaintively, wrinkling her pretty forehead in wonder. “I don’t even know you are really my friend....” “Janet, don’t for a moment doubt me,” Tom lowered his voice so that it reached her ear alone. “I am yours, heart and soul.” Her eyes fell before his, unable to bear the worship which kindled his plain features almost into beauty, and the carmine mounted her cheeks. “You’ll never believe anything people may say against me?” she pleaded. “Never,” with reassuring vehemence. “Will you promise to stand by me----?” “Always; through thick and thin.” “Then, Tom, save me from myself,” and a little cold hand slipped into his under cover of the table. Tom was white under his tan. He was in deadly earnest, but was Janet equally so? His clasp tightened on her hand until her ring cut into the tender flesh. “Tell me, Janet,” and the very repression of his voice showed the tension he was laboring under. “Is there a chance for me?” “You are very blind, dear,” and the love-light in her eyes was unmistakable. Paul Potter scanned Janet and Tom quizzically for a second, then turned back to Marjorie. “It’s no use,” he said. “I’ve tried repeatedly to break into their conversation; but it’s a close corporation. Behold, you still have me on your hands.” “That is no hardship but good fortune,” Marjorie spoke with truthfulness. Joe was not particularly interesting at any time; and feeling as she did that night, anything which interrupted a tête-à-tête with a member of the Calhoun-Cooper family was in the nature of a relief. She had held a three-cornered conversation with Potter and Joe most of the evening, and Joe, usually unobserving, had not failed to note the physician’s intent gaze and finally turning restive under the ceaseless espionage, was glad to present his back to his right-hand neighbors and talk to his dinner partner, Miss Dodge. “Tell me more of your adventures when you accompanied Duncan Fordyce to China, Doctor,” continued Marjorie, after a short pause. “I’m afraid I’ve already related all the exciting incidents of our trip. If you want thrilling romance ask Mr. Fordyce to tell you the story of the Maharajah’s ruby which he intends giving to his wife on their wedding anniversary tomorrow. Has he already shown it to you?” “No.” “That’s so, he only purchased the ruby today. I believe I’m letting out state secrets,” Potter laughed ruefully. “Don’t betray me, even to Janet.”