"No--no!" Sylvia said. "I am going to get the tea."

Yet she paused beside Burke, as if compelled. "What else did he
do?" she said. "You haven't told us all."

"Not quite all," said Burke, and still his eyes searched hers with
a probing intentness.

"Don't you want to tell me?" she said.

"Yes, I will tell you," he answered, "if you especially want to
hear. He saved my life."

"Hooray!" yelled Kelly, in the voice of one holloaing to hounds.

Sylvia said nothing for a moment. She had turned very pale. When
she spoke it was with an effort. "How?"

He answered as if speaking to her alone. "One of Vreiboom's
tumble-down old sheds fired while we were trying to clear it. The
place collapsed and I got pinned inside. Piet Vreiboom didn't
trouble himself, or Kieff, either. He wouldn't--naturally. Guy
got me out."

"Ah!" she said. It was scarcely more than an intake of the breath.
She could not utter another word, for that imprisoned thing within
her seemed to be clawing at her heart, choking her. If Burke had
died--if Burke had died! She turned herself quickly from the
searching of his eyes, lest he should see--and understand. She
could not--dared not--show him her soul just then. The memory of