“Then you are married?” said Miss Mason.
“Barely three weeks ago. We went to Yorkshire for part of our honeymoon. It was on the way up I lost my ring. We were quite rural up there, and saw no papers but the ‘Yorkshire Post.’ It was only by chance that a London paper was sent us, and I saw the advertisement, so I——”
She broke off. She had suddenly seen the picture of Pippa standing by the faun. Both figures were life-size.
“Who,” she asked, “is that?” Her eyes were dilated, her breath coming quickly.
“That is Pippa,” said Miss Mason; “a little girl I have adopted.”
Barnabas was again watching Sybil.
“She is,” he said quietly, “extraordinarily like a man I once knew, a great friend of mine—Philippe Kostolitz.”
Sybil stared at him with wide eyes. There was a trace of fear in them.
“You knew Philippe?” she said.
“Yes,” said Barnabas, still quietly.