towards his wife even with the worthy Kelly whose blundering
goodness so often carried him over difficult ground that few others
would have ventured to negotiate.

He left Kelly to dress, and went back to the bungalow where Sylvia
was busy with a duster trying to get rid of some of the sand that
thickly covered everything. He had scarcely spoken to her that
morning except for news Of Guy, but now he drew her aside.

"Look here!" he said. "Don't wear yourself out!"

She gave him a quick look. "Oh, I shan't do that. Work is good
for me. Isn't this sand too awful for words?"

She spoke with a determined effort to assume the old careless
attitude towards him, but the nervous flush on her cheeks betrayed
her.

He put his hand on her shoulder, and wheeled her round somewhat
suddenly towards the light. "You didn't sleep last night," he said.

She tried to laugh, but she could not check the hot flush of
embarrassment that raced into her pale cheeks under his look. "I
couldn't help it," she said. "I was rather wound up yesterday.
It--was an exciting day, wasn't it?"

He continued to look at her for several seconds, intently but not
sternly. Then very quietly he spoke. "Sylvia, if things go wrong,
if the servants upset you, come to me about it! Don't go to Guy!"