Marion looked up eagerly and met Vera's eyes. They were clear and true and honest; they were filled with frankness and pity.
"I promise from my heart," she said. "Not now nor at any time shall Geoffrey know what I have learned to-day."
Marion blessed the speaker tenderly.
"I am satisfied," she said. "He will never know."
CHAPTER XLII THE SEARCH
Mrs. May sat out on the lawn before the rose-garlanded windows of her sitting room. A Japanese umbrella was over her dainty head, a scented cigarette between her lips. For some time she had been long and earnestly sweeping the sea with a pair of binoculars.
She rose at length and made her way down the garden. There was a rugged path at the bottom, terminating in a thicket that overhung the cliffs.
Here it would be possible for a dozen men to hide without the slightest chance of being discovered. Nobody ever went there by any chance. Shaded from the house, Mrs. May paused.