I expected him to bear me down under a new weight of argument founded on
the psychology of Anyone, and I was startled when he suddenly dropped the
lawyer and let out a whole-hearted "Damnation," that had a ring of fine
sincerity.

I changed my tone instantly in response to that agreeably human note.

"I may be quite mistaken, of course," I said. "I hope to goodness I am. By
the way, do you know if she has taken any luggage with her?"

"Can't be sure," Jervaise said. "Olive's been looking and there doesn't
seem to be anything missing, but we've no idea what things she brought
down from town with her. If she'd been making plans beforehand..."

We came out of the wood at that point in our discussion, and almost at the
same moment the last barrier of cloud slipped away from before the moon.
She was in her second quarter, and seemed to be indolently rolling down
towards the horizon, the whole pose of the scene giving her the effect of
being half-recumbent.

I turned and looked at Jervaise and found him facing me with the full
light of the moon on his face. He was frowning, not with the domineering
scowl of the cross-examining counsel, but with a perplexed, inquiring
frown that revealed all the boy in him.

Once at Oakstone he had got into a serious scrape that had begun in
bravado and ended by a public thrashing. He had poached a trout from the
waters of a neighbouring landowner, who had welcomed the opportunity to
make himself more than usually objectionable. And on the morning before
his thrashing, Jervaise had come into my study and confessed to me that he