"You shall not need any one else," I declared. "Mine is, after all, a simple task. You know that I went to see Lord Polloch in London."
"Well?"
"He would not believe me. Why should he? My story sounded wild enough, and I had no proofs. I only need to gather together a few of these loose ends, to weave something tangible out of them and show him the results, and my task is finished."
"Do you suppose," she asked quietly, "that you will be allowed to do that?"
"I must do my best,"' I answered. "It is inevitable. There will be more Mr. Stanleys and such like, no doubt. They may hinder me, but I think that, in the end, I shall pull through. And I promise you, dear, that when I have something definite to show, I shall have finished with the whole business. It is no more to my liking than yours."
"I cannot move you then," she murmured.
"You must not try," I answered.
She laughed a little unnaturally.
"I do not feel any longer," she said, "that you belong to me. There is something else which comes first."
"Without that something, dear," I answered, "I should not be worthy of your love."