didn't do my duty, she'd see the thing through here among my own people."

"Six months--it's overdue now!" she said in agitation.

He nodded helplessly. "I'm in hell as things are. There's only this to
be said: She's done naught yet, and she mayn't do aught!"

They were roused by the click of the gate. "That's your father--that's
John Grier," she said.

They heard the front door open and shut, a footstep in the hall, then the
door opened and John Grier came into the room.

Preoccupation, abstraction, filled his face, as he came forward. It was
as though he was looking at something distant that both troubled and
pleased him. When he saw Carnac he stopped, his face flushed. For an
instant he stood unmoving, and then he held out his hand.

"So you've come back, Carnac. When did you get here?"

As Carnac released his hand from John Grier's cold clasp, he said: "A
couple of hours ago."

The old man scrutinized him sharply, carefully. "Getting on--making
money?" he asked. "Got your hand in the pocket of the world?"

Carnac shook his head. "I don't care much about the pocket of the world,
but they like my work in London and New York. I don't get Royal Academy
prices, but I do pretty well."