See! they move. The pale-faced woman rises from the floor. Ah, with what dignity, Pauline acknowledges to herself, keeping her eyes straight upon the window. She stands upright now before her companion, and is evidently speaking with simple unexaggerated action. He is striving to refute what she is saying, if he can be judged by the bending of his shoulders, by the moving of his hand. He fails, though; Pauline sees that. Then he bows in taking his leave, and disappears. What she has to do must be done at once. She is to meet and confront him, and brazen it out before him. She had noticed that the cab in which he had come, after setting him down, had rolled off in the direction of the village. To get to the village, he must pass the end of the path in which she then stood. If she could get there before him, she would be in time. In another instant she had gathered her skirt around her, and set off into a swift and steady run. She reached the end of the path as Martin Gurwood emerged through the garden-gate, and remained still, awaiting his approach. He came on steadily, his eyes fixed upon the ground, until he was within a short distance of her. Then he looked up, and wavered in his walk for an instant, seeing her planted directly in his path. For an instant; the next, he continued his advance--continued it even when she threw back her veil, and when, as she saw by a quick upward glance at him, he recognised her features. It was best, she thought, that she should speak first. 'Good morning, Mr. Gurwood,' she said in a light and pleasant tone. 'You are surprised to see me here?' His face was stern and rigid, as he replied: 'Had it been any one else, I might have been surprised; in Madame Du Tertre such conduct appears to me perfectly natural, and what I always imagined her perfectly capable of being guilty of.' 'Such conduct! guilty of!' she repeated. 'This is harsh language, Monsieur Martin. Of what conduct, pray, have I been guilty?' 'Of following me and spying out my actions, madame; of that there can be little doubt.' 'And yet at that you are not surprised,' she said, with a laugh. 'You had so low an opinion of me, that you take "such conduct" as a matter of course. Well, I am not disposed to deny it. I have followed you, and I have, as you call it, spied upon your actions. It is for you to explain them.' 'To explain them!' cried Martin Gurwood, with a burst of indignation; 'to whom, pray? To my conscience I can explain them readily enough; to those who have any claim upon me to ask for an explanation, I can give it. But to you, in what capacity am I to explain it?' 'In my capacity as Mrs. Calverley's friend and agent,' said Pauline, making a bold stroke. 'I am here in her interests; it is by her that I am authorised to do what I have done.' The shot had told; she saw its effect at once in his blanched cheek and his hesitating manner. 'You have come here as my mother's agent?' he asked.