in this quiet country house, during these peaceful autumn days, she
knew it not as willing accomplice, but as a helpless, destined victim
who saw no way of escape.

As if she feared she had said too much, she turned and began to
walk away.

At once he followed.

"Stop one moment," he exclaimed. "Miss Cayley."

She obeyed, turning quickly to face him. They were both very pale,
and both were under the influence of strong excitement. But between
them there hung a thick cloud of doubt and dread that neither could
penetrate.

All at once Dunn, unable to control himself longer, burst out with
that question which for so long had hovered on his lips.

"Do you know," he said, "do you know what you took away with you in
the car that night I came here?"

"The packing-case, you meant" she asked. "Of course I do; I helped
to get it ready--what's the matter?"

"Nothing," he muttered, though indeed he had staggered as beneath
some sudden and violent blow. "Oh--did you?" he said, with an
effort.

"Certainly," she answered. "Now I've answered your question, will