less guardedly than was either just or considerate; and Eve, flushed
and at war with the whole race of Rayners, departed that afternoon to
seek a situation elsewhere. She had found it at the house of Mrs.
Rastall-Retford.

And now this evening, as she sat in the drawing-room playing the piano
to her employer, in had walked the latter's son, a tall, nervous young
man, perpetually clearing his throat and fiddling with a pair of
gold-rimmed glasses, with the announcement that he had brought his
friend, Mr. Rayner, to spend a few days in the old home.

Eve could still see the look on Peter's face as, having shaken hands
with his hostess, he turned to her. It was the look of the cowboy who,
his weary ride over, sees through the dusk the friendly gleam of the
saloon windows, and with a happy sigh reaches for his revolver. There
could be no two meanings to that look. It said, as clearly as if he had
shouted it, that this was no accidental meeting; that he had tracked
her down and proposed to resume matters at the point where they had
left off.

Eve was indignant. It was abominable that he should pursue her in this
way. She sat thinking how abominable it was for five minutes; and then
it suddenly struck her that she was hungrier than ever. She had
forgotten her material troubles for the moment. It seemed to her now
that she was quite faint with hunger.

A cuckoo clock outside the door struck one. And, as it did so, it came
to Eve that on the sideboard in the dining-room there were biscuits.

A moment later she was creeping softly down the stairs.