"Except last night," Royle interrupted, suddenly finding at last the explanation of some words of hers which had puzzled him, "when he came here, and you were away."
"And I slept soundly in consequence," she agreed. "Yes. But to-night--if you hadn't been here--I should have obeyed altogether."
"But I am here," said Royle, gently; and, looking up, he saw that the morning had come. He rose and pulled aside the curtains so that the clear light flooded the room.
"Ina, do something for me," he pleaded, and she understood. She took the bottle of crystals, poured them into the basin, and set the tap running.
"Stay with me," she said. "Now that I have told you, I believe that I shall sleep, and sleep without fear. When you came into the room before I was only pretending."
She nestled down, and this time she did sleep. It seemed to Royle that the victory was won.
Some months later, however, a client talking over his affairs with Royle in his private office mentioned Raymond Byatt's name. Royle leaned forward with a start.
"You knew that man?" he asked.
"Yes," replied the client with a laugh. "He forged my name for a thousand pounds--and not mine alone. He was clever with his pen. But he came to the end of his tether at last. He saved himself from penal servitude by blowing his brains out."
Royle jumped out of his chair.