The figures paused. They were picked out clear against the sky line as Geoffrey lay there. He recognized one of them. Surely the tall lady, with the easy, swinging carriage and supple grace, could be none other than Mrs. May.
Geoffrey arranged his glasses. They were powerful binoculars, and through them he could see Mrs. May's features quite plainly. He looked through them again long and earnestly. And her companion was Marion!
Just for an instant Geoffrey doubted the evidence of his senses. He wiped the glasses with his handkerchief and looked through them long and earnestly. No doubt could any longer be entertained.
It was Marion—Marion who had declared that she had never spoken to the woman—Marion, who hated the sight of her. And here she was, walking along with Mrs. May as if they were something more than friends.
Yes, it was Marion beyond a doubt. She had discarded her white dress for one of blue; her sailor hat was replaced by a red tam-o'-shanter. All the same, it was not possible to mistake the graceful figure. Even without the glasses Geoffrey would have been prepared to swear to her.
He lay low under the bushes. The two were coming in his direction. Geoffrey did not want to listen, but something forced him there, some power he could not resist. Nearer and nearer they came, until Geoffrey could hear Mrs. May's voice.
"That is impossible, my dear Zazel," she said. "But you are safe."
"I am not so sure of that," was the reply. "And I'm only a pawn in the game."
It was Marion's voice; the same, yet not the same. It was a hoarse, strained voice, like the voice of a man who smokes to excess. Certainly Geoffrey was not prepared to swear to those as the tones of Marion.
"Absurd, Zazel. Of course you know that we are all in it together. And look at the glorious reward when our task is over. We must succeed ultimately, there is no doubt about that in spite of Tchigorsky. It is only a question of time. Am I to believe that you are not going to be true to your oath?"