"Oh, don't!" she begged. "Don't speak so flippantly of it!
How can you? And don't think for one instant. that I doubted
your word. I didn't. But it didn't seem possible that such a
thing--Mr. Brice!" she broke off earnestly. "You mustn't
--you can't--think that Milo knew anything of this! I mean
about the--the snakes and all. He is enough to blame--he has
shamed our hospitality and every trace of gratitude enough--by
letting you be locked in there at all and by consenting to
have you marooned on the key. I'm not trying to excuse him
for that. There's no excuse. And without proof I wouldn't
have believed it of him. But at least you must believe he had
no part in--in the other--"

"I do believe it," said Gavin. gently. touched to the heart
by her grief and shame. "At first. I was certain he had
connived at it. But what you overheard proves he didn't."

"Thank you," she said simply.

This time it was his hand that sought hers. And, even as she,
he was unconscious of the action.

"You mustn't let this distress you so," he soothed. noting
her effort to fight back the tears. "It all came out safely
enough. But--I think I've paid to-day for my right to ask
such a question--how does it happen that you and your
brother--you, especially--can have sunk to such straits that
you take orders meekly from a murderer like Rodney Hade, and
that you let him dictate what guests you shall or shan't
receive?"