"Oh, I told you that they had hanged me in Fleet Street already,
Isobel!" cried Coverly, with a burst of unmirthful laughter.

But (and no man could have construed the thing favorably to Coverly)
to my anger and amazement he added:

"Let them do it! I'll speak if I choose, but not otherwise!"

That I was annoyed with the young fool already, my remarks to him,
which had transgressed every code of good taste, must sufficiently
have shown. But I had hoped to provoke him to a declaration which
would clear his name from the shadow which was settling darkly upon
it, and which would raise that shadow from the girl who stood beside
him, watching me with a sort of reproachful look in her dark eyes.

Now I recognized that I could remain no longer and keep the peace,
therefore:

"Perhaps it is time that I went about my own business," I said,
conjuring up a smile, although it must have been a dreary one, "and
ceased to interfere with the affairs of other people. Good-by, Isobel.
Anything I can do, you know you may command. Good-by, Coverly. I am
deeply sorry about this business."

He barely touched my extended hand, but instantly turned and walked to
the bay window. Descending to the street, I had immediate confirmation
of Coverly's statement that his movements were watched.

In the porch below a man stood talking to the hall-porter. As I