"I'm glad to know you, sir. I used to know your father. I've heard
many a case tried in his court. A juster man never lived. Good
night, sir. Good night, Miss Heath."

When all good-bys were over and all were gone Selwyn, standing with
his back to the fire, looked at me, but for a moment said nothing.
As completely as if he had stepped from one body into another he
seemed a different person from the man who had been most charming to
my guests a few minutes before when he had told them good night as if
he were, indeed, their host. Looking at him, I saw his face was
haggard and worn and that he was nervously anxious and uneasy.

"It is late. I know I shouldn't stay." His voice was as troubled as
his eyes. "I'm sorry to keep Mrs. Mundy up, but I must talk to you
tonight. Again I must ask you what to do."




CHAPTER XXIII

"It's pretty beastly in me to put this on you." Selwyn, who had
taken his seat in a chair opposite mine, first leaned back, then
forward, and, hands clasped between his knees, looked down upon the
floor. "I've kept away from you lest I trouble you with what I have
no right--"

"If you did not talk to me frankly I would be much more troubled." I
drew the scarf about my shoulders a little closer. I knew what was
coming. The thought of it chilled. "Is it about Harrie you are