"The bungalow! You are going back to the bungalow?" "Immediately." "What for? Didn't you see all there was to see?" "Not quite." "I don't know what there can be left." "Nothing of consequence, most likely, but you can not wish me to have any doubts on the subject." "No, no, of course not." The carelessness of her tone did not communicate itself to her manner. Seeing that my unexpected proposition had roused her alarm, I grew wary and remarked: "I was always overscrupulous." With a lift of her shoulders--a dainty gesture which I congratulated myself I could see unmoved--she held out her hand in a mute appeal for the key, but seeing that I was not to be shaken in my purpose, reached for the wrap she had tossed on a chair and tied it again over her head. "What are you going to do?" I asked. "Accompany you," she declared. "Again? I thought the place frightened you." "It does," she replied. "I had rather visit any other spot in the whole world; but if it is your intention to go back there, it is mine to go with you." "You are very good," I replied. But I was seriously disconcerted notwithstanding. I had reckoned upon a quiet hour in the bungalow by myself; moreover, I did not understand her motive for never trusting me there alone. Yet as this very distrust was suggestive, I put a good face on the matter and welcomed her company with becoming alacrity. After all, I might gain more than I could possibly lose by having her under my eye for a little longer. Strong as was her self-control there were moments when the real woman showed herself, and these moments were productive. As we were passing out she paused to extinguish a lamp which was slightly smoking,--I also thought she paused an instant to listen. At all events her ears were turned toward the stairs down which there came the murmur of two voices, one of them the little boy's. "It is time Harry was asleep," she cried. "I promised to sing to him. You won't be long, will you?" "You need not be very long," was my significant retort. "I can not speak for myself." Was I playing with her curiosity or anxieties or whatever it was that affected her? I hardly knew; I spoke as impulse directed and waited in cold blood--or was it hot blood?--to see how she took it. Carelessly enough, for she was a famous actress except when taken by surprise. Checking an evident desire of calling out some direction up stairs, she followed me to the door, remarking cheerfully, "You can not be very long either; the place is not large enough."