lids drooped heavily.

"The kindness is on your side, Lady Carfax," he said deliberately. "If
you manage to inspire it in others, the virtue is still your own."

She smiled and closed her eyes again. It was evident that she did not
desire to talk.

He looked away from her, glanced at his torn gloves, and tossed them
impatiently from him.

For ten minutes neither spoke. The car ran smoothly on through the night
like an inspired chariot of the gods. There was no sound of wheels. They
seemed to be borne on wings.

For ten minutes the man sat staring stonily before him, rigid as a
statue, while the woman lay passive by his side.

But at the end of that ten minutes the speed began to slacken. They came
softly to earth and stopped.

Errol opened the door and alighted. "Have you a key?" he said, as he gave
her his hand.

She stood above him, looking downwards half-dreamily as one emerging from
a deep slumber.

"Do you know," she said, beginning to smile, "I thought that you were the
Knave of Diamonds?"