I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. " "Then, bring them into this room, the first thing—quick! They must not meet, Sir Rowland," he added, as Charcam hastened to obey his instructions. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. By the side of her plate was a small key.
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