answer, nor moved, but I noticed that his hands were tightly clenched.

“You do recognize it, Sir Cyril?”

At last he nodded.

“Then take it. The dagger shall be yours. To-night, within the last minute, I think I have suddenly discovered that, next to myself, you have the best right to it.”

He opened his lips to speak, but made no sound.

“See,” she said. “It is a real dagger, sharp and pointed.”

Throwing back her cloak with a quick gesture, she was about to prick the skin of her left arm between the top of her long glove and the sleeve of her low-cut dress. But Sir Cyril, and I also, jumped to stop her.