"If you had to be either a sheep or a shearer, which would you choose?"
"Is that how it is?"
"Pretty nearly," was his gloomy reply.
A long silence, he staring at the floor, she watching him. At last she said, "Haven't they—got—something on you—something they can use against you?"
He startled. "Where did you hear that? What did you hear?" he demanded, with an astonished look at her.
"I was lunching to-day with some people who know we used to be married, but they don't know we're good friends. They supposed I'd be glad to hear of any misfortune to you. And they said a mine was going to blow up under you, and that you'd disappear and never be heard of again."
"You can't tell me who told you?"
"No—unless it's absolutely necessary. It has something to do with an investigating committee. You're to be called quite suddenly and something is to come out—something you did that will look bad—" She came to a full stop.
His face cleared. "Oh—I know about that. I've arranged for it." His mind was free to consider her manner. "And you assumed I was guilty?"
"I didn't know," she replied. "I was sure you were no worse than the rest of them. If you hadn't come to-day, I'd have sent you warning."