I murmured indefinitely, and glanced at the screen. Mentally I could see Charmion leaning back in her chair, smiling her slow fine smile, inquisitively waiting to see just how firm or how weak I could be. I was not inclined to be weak. There was something in the personality of this big domineering man which roused an imp of contradiction. We sat silent, eyeing one another across the room.

“I believe you and—er—Mrs Fane are strangers to this neighbourhood?”

“Yes! That is so.”

“You have no—er—special link or attraction?”

I saw the trap, and protested blandly.

“Oh, yes! We are delighted with Pastimes. It exactly suits our requirements.”

Mr Maplestone frowned, and fidgeted to and fro, then suddenly leant forward, straightening his face into what was obviously intended to be a smile.

“Miss Wastneys! Will you forgive me if I am perfectly frank and honest, and tell you exactly what is in my mind?”

“Of course I will. I am sure,” I declared mendaciously, “there can be nothing to forgive!”

He had the grace to look a trifle ashamed, but his resolution did not waver. Not a bit! He looked straight in my eyes, and said deliberately:—

“I want Pastimes! For the moment it has slipped through my fingers, but a couple of hours cannot seriously affect your arrangements. On my cousin’s behalf I am anxious to take over the lease. It would be an act of grace on your part if you would agree to this arrangement, and deal with me as his representative!”

The audacity of it! For a moment I was silent for sheer want of breath, but I could feel the blood rushing into my cheeks, and knew that my eyes were sending out flashes to meet his own. My appearance must have prepared him for my answer before it came, uttered in a very calm, very haught