"Your belief in me, if you ever had any—and I know that you had, as I hope that you still have."
"My belief in you?" Marion paused, looked at him and then turned away. "Yes, but the more I believe in you, the more I must believe every word you say—"
While she was speaking, Stubbs opened the door, and entered the room, bringing a card.
"The person wishes to see you, madam," he said, holding out the silver salver.
Mrs. Darche's face betrayed some annoyance at the interruption as she took up the card and read the name. "W. H. Wood, Associated Press. What does this mean?" she asked turning to Brett. "Do you know the man?"
"Evidently a reporter," said Brett.
"Tiresome people," exclaimed Mrs. Darche. "I wonder what in the world he wants. Perhaps he has made a mistake. At all events there is no reason why I should see him. Say that I am engaged," she added, turning to Stubbs.
"Wait a minute, Stubbs," said Brett, calling after the man. "Do not send him away," he added, turning to Marion. "Let me see him."
"Why?" she asked.
"I have an idea that he has come about that story that has got into the papers," said Brett in a low voice.