thing!"

"Perhaps you didn't. All the same, it's a question. I don't pretend
to understand Eve Madeley, and I'm afraid you are just as far from
knowing her."

"I don't know her? Why, what are you talking about, Mr. Hilliard?"

"What do you think of her, then? Is she a good-hearted girl or----"

"Or what? Of course she's good-hearted. The things that men do say!
They seem to be all alike."

"Women are so far from being all alike that one may think she
understands another, and be utterly deceived. Eve has shown her best
side to you, no doubt. With me, she hasn't taken any trouble to do
so. And if----"

"Hush!"

This time the alarm was justified. A latchkey rattled at the
house-door, the door opened, and in the same moment Patty turned out
the light.

"It's my uncle," she whispered, terror-stricken. "Don't stir."



CHAPTER XII