"But is that safe, Mildred?"
"Quite safe. No one ever goes there but me. The summerhouse, as you can see, is quite buried amongst the trees, and I have hung some Eastern stuffs round the walls to conceal the door into the studio. Besides," she added, with a little hesitation, "no one would ever think of looking for him in my house."
"No. That is all right," assented Jarman; "but why did he come?"
"For the very reason I have stated. He was afraid lest Mr. Darrel should send a message to the police, so he gave the key of your house to old Bowles, and came in the afternoon--"
"As Desmond O'Neil?"
"Certainly. Then he told me his story. At first I was horrified, but, remembering how you believed in his innocence, I decided to help him. As the secretary, he then went for a long walk, and came back at night. I had the studio ready for him, and he has been in it ever since."
"Let me see him," said Jarman, rising.
"One moment," said Mildred, catching his hand; "you will find him different to what you expect. His disguise has been taken off."
"Were you surprised at the change?"
"No." She blushed. "The fact is, Eustace, I saw him in the theatre on that night, so I knew him again when he became himself."