"I don't know if you've ever read Boswell," continued Colin, "but Doctor Johnson says that it sharpens a man's wits wonderfully if he's just on the point of being hanged. You can take my word for it that the same thing's true about being drowned. I did a lot of thinking while I was down in that cellar, and I've come to the conclusion that we're up against something much bigger and more complicated than we've got any idea of." Nancy sat motionless, her blue eyes fixed steadily on his. "I don't quite understand," she said slowly, "but I somehow feel that you're right." "I won't try to explain now," replied Colin. "My head's aching too badly for one thing, and in any case I am going to turn the whole business over to Marsden to-morrow, and I would rather wait until I hear what he's got to say about it." He paused. "Besides," he added, "I have only another three minutes, and there's something much more important I want to discuss." "What's that?" inquired Nancy. "Come a little closer," said Colin. "It's confidential." Nancy moved forward obediently, and with a sudden movement Colin pushed aside the tray and took hold of her two hands. "It's just this," he whispered. "I love you so much that I don't know whether I'm sitting in bed or whether I've died and gone to heaven." Nancy looked up into his face, a faint smile quivering round the corners of her lips. "I think you must be in bed, Colin. They don't wear pyjamas in heaven." He leaned toward her. "Say you care for me, Nancy, even if it isn't true." She shook her head. "I told you I was no good at pretending. I have loved you shamelessly ever since that first day in the King's Road." With a deep, contented laugh Colin drew up her hands until they rested on his shoulders. "So have I," he confessed, "but I only realized it while I was waiting to be drowned. I think I must be the biggest fool in England, but I'm certainly the happiest." He kissed her lips with a passionate tenderness, and then, slipping his arms round her, held her close to him, his face resting against hers. For a moment or two they remained quite still, then very gently Nancy raised her head. "I don't know much about concussion, Colin," she said, "but I'm quite sure that this isn't the right treatment for it." "I haven't got concussion," returned Colin. "What I'm suffering from is an acute form of heart trouble." Nancy stroked his cheek with her small, cool fingers. "My poor darling," she whispered. "I will do everything I can for you to-morrow--I promise you that--but I _must_ run away now and let you go to sleep. I don't want you to be seriously ill, Colin, especially when you've just found out that you love me." "Perhaps you're right," admitted Colin reluctantly. "The worst of it is we shall have precious little time to ourselves until Mark comes home, and after that I shall have to dash up to Scotland Yard."