murmuring for all to hear her:

"No, no, Sylvia. Be silent, for God's sake!"

But Sylvia had risen to speak, and speak she did, and though the
words she uttered were such as a virgin might wish to whisper with
veiled countenance and averted glance, yet her utterance of them
was bold to the point of defiance.

"I can tell you why Captain Tremayne is silent. I can tell you
whom he shields."

"Oh God!" gasped Lady O'Moy, wondering through her anguish how
Sylvia could have become possessed of her secret.

"Miss Armytage - I implore you!" cried Tremayne, forgetting where
he stood, his voice shaking at last, his hand flung out to silence
her.

And then the heavy voice of O'Moy crashed in:

"Let her speak. Let us have the truth - the truth!" And he
smote the table with his clenched fist.

"And you shall have it," answered Miss Armytage. "Captain Tremayne
keeps silent to shield a woman - his mistress."

Sir Terence sucked in his breath with a whistling sound. Lady O'Moy
desisted from her attempts to check the speaker and fell to staring
at her in stony astonishment, whilst Tremayne was too overcome by