Jocelyn Thew held out his hand towards Katharine.

"Really," he said, "the tone of this conversation takes one back to
the atmosphere of the dear old Drury Lane melodrama. I feel, somehow
or other," he went on, looking into Katharine's eyes, "that our friend
here has cast me for the part of the villain and you for the injured
heroine. I am wondering whether I dare ask you for a farewell
greeting?"

Katharine did not hesitate for a moment. Her shapely, ringless hand
was grasped firmly by his brown, lean fingers. She felt the pressure
of a signet ring, the slight tightening of his grip as he leaned a
little towards her. Again she was conscious of that feeling of
exuberant life and complete confidence which had transformed her whole
and humiliating situation so short a time ago.

"The injured heroine is always forgiving," she declared,--"even though
she may have nothing to forgive. Good-by, Mr. Thew, and good
fortune to you!"




CHAPTER XV


The morning--grey, slightly wet--broke upon Liverpool docks, the ugliest
place in the ugliest city of Europe. A thin stream of people descended at
irregular intervals down the gangway from the _City of Boston_ to the dock,