a marvellous escape! And what a romantic story! All the clubs are
buzzing with it. A charming girl! You'll have to marry her, of
course, that's the necessary climax. You and the young lady are the
staple of news, I see, in very big print, in all the evening papers!"

Guy drew back at the words with a little start of surprise. "Young
lady!" he cried aghast. "A charming girl, Nevitt! Then the person
who was shut up with you for fifteen hours in the tunnel was a
girl, Cyril!"

Cyril's handsome face flushed slightly before his brother's scrutinizing
gaze; but he answered with a certain little ill-concealed embarrassment:

"Oh, I didn't say so, didn't I? Well, she WAS a girl then, of course;
a certain Miss Clifford. She got in at Chetwood. Her people live
somewhere down there near Tilgate. At least, so I gathered from
what she told me."

Nevitt stared hard at the painter's eyes, which tried, without
success, to look unconscious.

"A romance!" he said, slowly, scanning his man with deep interest.
"A romance, I can see. Young, rich, and beautiful. My dear Cyril,
I only wish I'd had half your luck. What a splendid chance, and what
a magnificent introduction! Beauty in distress! A lady in trouble!
You console her alone in a tunnel for fifteen hours by yourself
at a stretch. Heavens, what a tete-a-tete! Did British propriety
ever before allow a man such a glorious opportunity for chivalrous
devotion to a lady of family, face, and fortune?"