"Do you know Mr. Baxter—Captain Vane. . . ."
Vane looked curiously at the man who had invoked his late companion's wrath. Then his glance fell on the bottle of Vichy in front of the millionaire, and his jaw tightened.
"You left Blandford very unexpectedly, Miss Devereux," he said politely.
"Yes—I had to go North suddenly." She looked at him with a smile.
"You see—I was frightened. . . ."
"Frightened. . . ." murmured Vane.
"A friend of mine—a very great friend of mine—a girl, was in danger of making a fool of herself." Her eyes were fixed on the band, and his heart began to thump again.
"I trust the catastrophe was averted," he remarked.
"One never knows in these cases, does one?" she answered. He saw the trace of a smile hover on her lips; then she turned to her companion. "Captain Vane was one of the convalescents at Rumfold Hall," she explained.
Mr. Baxter grunted. "Going over again soon?" he asked in a grating voice.
"I'm on leave at present," said Vane briefly.