of her in church, after all, and it was but natural that, after the
experience they had passed through together, he should wish to renew
his acquaintance with her. When two people have been as near to death
in company as they had been, it can hardly be expected that they will
regard each other in the light of total strangers should they chance to
meet again.

Hidden from his sight by an intervening yew tree, she watched him
coming down the church path, conscious of a somewhat pleasurable sense
of anticipation, and when he had passed under the lichgate and, turning
to the left, came face to face with her, she bowed and smiled, holding
out her hand.

To her utter amazement he looked at her without the faintest sign of
recognition on his face, pausing only for the fraction of a second as a
man may when some stranger claims his acquaintance by mistake; then
with a murmured "Pardon!" he raised his hat slightly and passed on.

Diana's hand dropped slowly to her side. She felt stunned. The thing
seemed incredible. Less than a week ago she and this man had travelled
companionably together in the train, dined at the same table, and
together shared the same dreadful menace which had brought death very
close to both of them, and now he passed her by with the cool stare of
an utter stranger! If he had knocked her down she would hardly have
been more astonished.

Moreover, it was not as though her companionship had been forced upon
him in the train; he had deliberately sought it. Two people can travel
side by side without advancing a single hairsbreadth towards
acquaintance if they choose. But he had not so chosen--most assuredly