"They were not, sir," he answered. "They never had been. But some few
months back a fresh quarrel arose and one night in this very room it
almost came to blows."

"Indeed? What was the quarrel about?"

The old hesitancy claimed Morris again, but at last:

"Of course," he said, with visible embarrassment, "it was--a woman."

I felt my heart leaping wildly, but I managed to preserve an outward
show of composure.

"What woman?" demanded Gatton.

"I don't know, sir."

"Do you mean it?"

A fierce note of challenge had come into the quiet voice, but Morris
looked up and met Gatton's searching stare unflinchingly.

"I swear it," he said. "I never was an eavesdropper."

"I suggest it was the same woman that Sir Marcus went to see last
night?" Gatton continued.

The examination of Morris had reached a point at which I found myself
hard put to it to retain even a seeming of composure. All Gatton's
questions had been leading up to this suggestion, as I now perceived