impossible for them to have even stood upright."

"You mentioned the fact, did you not," the lady who called herself Miss
Pinsent observed, "that it was raining heavily at the time? Perhaps they
stayed under the bridge to shelter."

"That's something I never thought of," Mr. Greene admitted, "perhaps for
the reason that they both of them seemed quite indifferent to the rain.
The young man in the dark clothes hadn't even an umbrella. I must admit
that I allowed my thoughts to travel in another direction. Professional
instinct, you see. It was a fairly broad canal, and the water was nearly
up to the towing-path. I'd lay a wager it was twelve or fifteen feet
deep. Supposing those two men had met on that narrow path and quarrelled!
Supposing--"

"Don't!"

Mr. Raymond Greene stopped short. He gazed in amazement at Elizabeth
Dalstan, who had suddenly clutched his hand. There was something in her
face which puzzled as well as startled him. She had been looking at her
opposite neighbour but she turned back towards the narrator of this
thrilling story as the monosyllable broke from her lips.

"Please stop," she begged. "You are too dramatic, Mr. Greene. You really
frighten me."

"Frighten you?" he repeated. "My dear Miss Dalstan!"

"I suppose it is very absurd of me," she went on, smiling appealingly at
him, "but your words were altogether too graphic. I can't bear to think