"People who did not know the circumstances might have considered me guilty of an indiscretion," Lutchester admitted, "but they would have been entirely wrong. On the other hand, your friend Fischer is a would-be murderer, a liar, and is at the present moment engaged in intrigues which are a most immoral compound of duplicity and cunning."
"I shall begin to think," Pamela murmured, "that you don't like Mr.
Fischer!"
"I detest him heartily," Lutchester confessed.
"I find him singularly interesting," Pamela announced, sitting up in her chair.
"I dare say you do," Lutchester replied. "Women are always bad judges of our sex. All the same, you are not going to marry him."
"How do you know he wants to marry me?" Pamela demanded.
"Instinct!"
"And what do you mean by saying that I am not going to marry him?"
"Because," Lutchester announced, "you are going to marry some one else."
Pamela rose to her feet. There was a little spot of colour in her cheeks.