“Then — you do not credit ill of me?” she asked, a bright but somewhat fixed and painful smile on her red lips.

“No!” said I bluntly. “Nor did I ever.”

“And yet I look the part, and seem to play it, too. And still you believe me honest?”

“I know you are.”

“Then why should I be here alone — if I am honest, Euan?”

“I do not know; tell me.”

“But — are you quite certain that you do not ask because you doubt me?”

I said impatiently: “I ask, knowing already you are good above reproach. I ask so I may understand how best to aid you.”