"Yes," answered John. He could think of nothing else to say. Here was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, holding his hand warmly in hers, and telling him she forgave him everything. The situation would have been delightful if he had only been the other man!
"Bernard, for my sake, you will try, won't you?" She paused, and this time he was obliged to frame some sort of answer.
"I'll do the best I can," he said, lamely, then added, to turn the subject, "Who is your visitor?"
"It's Mr. Manners, the big, stout man you brought here a long while ago. He has a friend with him, a younger man."
"Captain Cherriton?" asked John, lowering his voice.
The girl nodded.
"They came to ask where you were, and wanted your address, but I remembered what you told me and would not give it."
Then for the first time John looked keenly into her face. He had never seen her in his life before, and at any moment she might recognise him. But even with that danger hovering over him he could not help wondering if she loved Treves.
"Come, Bernard"; she took his hand in hers. "You must see your friends and get rid of them."
John walked with her along the narrow passage. At the door of the parlour the girl halted.