Geoffrey thought of Marion and was silent. That one so pure and sweet should be mixed up with a creature like that was horrible. Ralph Ravenspur rose with a yawn. He seemed to have lapsed into his wooden state. He felt his way down the big flagged hall toward the staircase.
"We can do nothing more," he said. "I am going to bed. Good-night."
The door closed and then Geoffrey was free to act. He could go down into the vault and bring Marion up. But first he would try to ascertain if she was in her room. He passed up the stairs and along the corridor. Outside Marion's door he coughed gently.
The door opened and Marion stood there clad in a fair white wrap, with her glorious hair hanging free over her shoulders. Her eyes were full of tears.
"Geoff," she whispered. "Geoff, dear Geoff."
She fell into his arms, and pressed her lips long and clingingly to his. Her hole frame was quivering with mingled love and emotion. Then she snatched herself away from his embrace and, with the single whispered word, "To-morrow," closed the door behind her.
CHAPTER XXIII MARION EXPLAINS
A brilliant sunshine poured into the terrace room where the Ravenspurs usually breakfasted. An innovation in the way of French windows led on to a tessellated pavement bordered with flowers on either side and ending in the terrace overlooking the sea.