Sir George shuffled off again in the direction of the library, where Mayfield stood on the mat before the fireplace smoking a cigarette. There was not the slightest suggestion of triumph about him, his face was calm and set. He looked like some under-secretary who is about to read statistics to a House of bored listeners. He had left his eye-glass behind him, so that the cynical expression was absent. "She's in the drawing-room," Sir George said. His manner was almost cringing. "She--she prefers to discuss the matter with you alone. Perhaps she thinks that you are more likely to listen to her than to me--Mayfield." "She's right there," Mayfield said almost brutally. "It is a matter between ourselves. Sorry to put you to all this inconvenience, Dashwood, but there was no other way of teaching the lesson. But you need not worry, half an hour will see the whole matter settled, and even your servants will not be any the wiser. I arranged the thing so that you should have the maximum of experience at the minimum of inconvenience." Sir George muttered something to the effect that his companion was very thoughtful. There was not an atom of fight left in him, and he took no heed of anything but his own personal comfort. The sooner Mayfield and Mary came to an understanding and those cattle were cleared out of the house, the better. After that Sir George could go to bed. Without undue haste or eagerness, Mayfield passed into the drawing-room. There was just a sardonic touch in his smile as he noticed the snoring hog on the yellow satin lounge. He quite understood why a sight like that could touch Mary's pride to the quick. Strange what queer pawns in the game of life a clever man had to use at times! Mary was standing in the window-frame looking out into the night. Everything seemed so still and peaceful; there was no jarring note save the snore of the man in possession. Mayfield just touched Mary on the arm and she turned. Her face flushed for an instant, and then it became deadly pale again. "Not in there," she said, "I cannot breathe in the house tonight. Do you know what I should have done had this happened a century or two ago?" Mayfield did not know, but he could give a pretty shrewd guess as he glanced at the steely blue glitter in Mary's eyes. A certain pride of possession thrilled him. "I think you know," Mary went on. "I should have asked you here to discuss the matter, to appeal to your better nature. And when I failed I should have killed you first and myself afterwards. I could do it now if I had the weapon to my hand."