"I don't suppose you are very anxious for people to know how near
you came to absolute turpitude. You may rest easy on that point.
I shall speak to my father, of course, and we will agree to say
that he has died--nothing more."

"Yes," said Renouard in a lifeless voice. "He is dead. His very
ghost shall be done with presently."

She went on, but he remained standing stock still in the dusk. She
had already reached the three palms when she heard behind her a
loud peal of laughter, cynical and joyless, such as is heard in
smoking-rooms at the end of a scandalous story. It made her feel
positively faint for a moment.



CHAPTER XI



Slowly a complete darkness enveloped Geoffrey Renouard. His
resolution had failed him. Instead of following Felicia into the
house, he had stopped under the three palms, and leaning against a
smooth trunk had abandoned himself to a sense of an immense
deception and the feeling of extreme fatigue. This walk up the
hill and down again was like the supreme effort of an explorer
trying to penetrate the interior of an unknown country, the secret
of which is too well defended by its cruel and barren nature.
Decoyed by a mirage, he had gone too far--so far that there was no
going back. His strength was at an end. For the first time in his