with."

He stiffened perceptibly.

"I shall never marry," he said shortly. Her eyebrows rose the
fraction of an inch but she bit back the answer that rose to her
lips.

"Never--is a long day," she said lightly. "The Cravens are an old
family, Barry. One has one's obligations."

He did not reply and she changed the conversation hastily. She had
a horror of forcing a confidence.

"Remains--Mary," she said, with the air of proposing a final
expedient. Craven's tense face relaxed.

"Mary had also occurred to me," he admitted with an eagerness that
was almost pathetic.

Miss Craven grunted and clutched at her hair.

"Mary!" she repeated with a chuckle, "Mary, who has gone
through life with Wesley's sermons under her arm--and a child
out of a Paris convent! There are certainly elements of humour
in the idea. But I must have some details. Who was this Locke
person?"

When Craven had told her all he knew she stood quite still for a
long while, rolling a cigarette tube between her firm hands.