Ivery made me walk a bit of the road home with him. 'I am
struck by your grip on these difficult problems, Mr Brand,' he told
me. 'There is much I can tell you, and you may be of great value to
our cause.' He asked me a lot of questions about my past, which I
answered with easy mendacity. Before we parted he made me
promise to come one night to supper.

Next day I got a glimpse of Mary, and to my vexation she cut
me dead. She was walking with a flock of bare-headed girls, all
chattering hard, and though she saw me quite plainly she turned
away her eyes. I had been waiting for my cue, so I did not lift my
hat, but passed on as if we were strangers. I reckoned it was part of
the game, but that trifling thing annoyed me, and I spent a
morose evening.

The following day I saw her again, this time talking sedately
with Mr Ivery, and dressed in a very pretty summer gown, and
a broad-brimmed straw hat with flowers in it. This time she stopped
with a bright smile and held out her hand. 'Mr Brand, isn't it?'
she asked with a pretty hesitation. And then, turning to her
companion - 'This is Mr Brand. He stayed with us last month
in Gloucestershire.'

Mr Ivery announced that he and I were already acquainted. Seen
in broad daylight he was a very personable fellow, somewhere
between forty-five and fifty, with a middle-aged figure and a
curiously young face. I noticed that there were hardly any lines on it,
and it was rather that of a very wise child than that of a man. He
had a pleasant smile which made his jaw and cheeks expand like
indiarubber. 'You are coming to sup with me, Mr Brand,' he cried