"May we, then, have the pleasure of your company? There is no need
to go back to Vico Brancaccio. I am sure Mrs. Baske will excuse you
the torture of uniform."

With a sort of grumble, the invitation was accepted. A little while
after, Spence proposed to his friend a walk before sunset.

"Yes; let us go up the hill," said Mallard, rising abruptly. "I need
movement after the railway."

They left the villa, and Mallard grew less restrained in his
conversation.

"How does Mrs. Baske answer to your expectations?" Spence asked him.

"I had seen her photograph, you know."

"Where?"

"Her brother showed it me--one taken at the time of her marriage."

"What is Elgar doing at present?"

"It's more than a year since we crossed each other," Mallard
replied. "He was then going to the devil as speedily as can in
reason be expected of a man. I happened to encounter him one morning
at Victoria Station, and he seemed to have just slept off a great
deal of heavy drinking. Told me he was going down to Brighton to see
about selling a houseful of furniture there--his own property. I