Margaret, sufficiently dressed, but without having breakfasted, very pale and impatient, was at the window of the music room when Peter came up the gravel path in his noisy motor, flung in the clutch with a grating sound, pulled the machine to a standstill. There was no ceremony about showing him up. He was in the room before she had collected herself. He, too, was pale, his chin unshaved, his eyes a little wild; looking as if he, also, had not slept. “You’ve heard what happened?” he began, abruptly.... “No, of course you haven’t, how could you? What a fool I am! There’s been a hell of a hullabaloo. That’s why I telephoned, rushed up. You know that she-cat came down here?” He had difficulty in explaining his errand. “Yes. I saw her, she waited for you at the hotel. Go on, what next?” “I didn’t get back until after nine o’clock. And then I found her waiting for me. The servants did not know what to make of her; they told me they couldn’t understand what she said, so I suppose she talked Christian Science. Fortunately I’d got the cheque with me. I had not been able to change it, the London banks were all closed. She took it like a bird. Not without some of the jargon and hope that I’d mend my ways, give up prescribing drugs. You know the sort of thing. I thought I’d got through, that it was all over. The cheque was dated Saturday, she would be able to cash it first thing Monday morning. It was as good as money directly the banks opened. I never dreamt of them meeting.” “Who?” asked Margaret, with pale lips. She knew well enough, although she asked and waited for an answer. “She and Gabriel Stanton. It seems she was too late for the last train and had to put up at the hotel....” “At the King’s Arms?” “Yes. He met her there, or rather she forced herself on him. God knows what she had in her mind. Pure mischief, I suspect, though of course it may have been propaganda. It seems he came in about ten o’clock and went on to the terrace to smoke or to look at the sea. She followed him there, tackled him about his sister or his soul.” “How do you know all this?” “Let me tell the story my own way. He met her full-face so to speak, wanted to know exactly what she was doing in this part of the world. Perhaps she didn’t know she was giving away the show. Perhaps she didn’t know he wasn’t exactly in our confidence. There is no use thinking the worst of her.” “She knew what she was doing, that she was coming between us.” Margaret spoke in a low voice, a voice of desperate certainty and hopelessness. “Well, that doesn’t matter one way or another, what her intentions were, I mean. I don’t know myself what had happened between you and him. Although of course I spotted quick enough he’d had some sort of shock....” “Then you have seen him!” “I was coming to that. After his interview with her he came straight to me.” “To you! But it was already night!”