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“But, of course, you must see her,” said Sarah, rising. “I’ll go, if you like: but you must stay. Poor, wretched girl, you can’t——”

“Stay?” cried Virgil. “You’re mad. I don’t want to be blackmailed.”

“But you said that June——”

“It—it isn’t June,” wailed Pardoner. “I mean, it can’t be. It—it isn’t her voice. It’s an impostor—that’s the word—impostor, Sarah. Someone or other’s got hold of that blasted letter, and now they’re trying it on.”

“But it must be June,” said Sarah. “The telephone’s very deceptive. Sometimes those very soft voices——”

“I tell you it’s not,” raged Virgil. “June doesn’t drop her ‘h’s’.”

With a bright red spot upon either cheek, Miss Vulliamy preceded him to the door.

While she was getting her cloak, Pardoner gave the porter instructions too definite to be mistaken. These he reinforced with two pounds.

Then a taxi was summoned, and a moment later the two were flying up Brook Street....

Pardoner entered that cab with the determined intention of telling Miss Vulliamy the truth. He meant to humble himself. He intended to apologize for his reception of his amazing luck. He meant to ask her to do her best to love and to confess there and then that “if the Will went west to-morrow morning, I’ld beg and humbly pray you to become my wife.”