“I want to tell you a thing I saw at the club just now, a thing in the paper----” He seemed rather at a loss how to go on. “It was about Glasgow,” he said uncomfortably. The hand that was in his became rather stiff. “Poor chap,” Hugh went on, “he was--he met with an accident--I mean--in fact, he’s been killed.” There was silence. “He fell down the shaft of a mine or waterworks or something that he was engineering out in the Argentine Republic, and was killed on the spot. It’s a ghastly sort of thing,” he ended nervously. She turned her head till her eyes were hidden against his shoulder. “All right, Hughie,” she said, in a muffled voice, “it’s all right. You know I don’t mind. Not really. It’s only--it’s so horrible--and it makes me think of all that time--and what they said of the bad luck, and everything----” “Yes, I know,” he said, putting his arm round her. “You _do_ believe me still that I was only an idiot?” she said, looking up at him with the tears in her eyes. He kissed her. THE END. RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, LONDON & BUNGAY. End of Project Gutenberg's The Silver Fox, by Edith Somerville and Martin Ross