"Thank you. I have no intention of doing anything of the kind. Can you not suggest a cure?"
"I can suggest ten thousand, but they would all be experiments. In fact, I have tried several of them already, and the experiments have failed. For instance, I thought marriage might effect a cure. It is perhaps yet too early to judge, but it would appear that, so far, the thing has been a failure. Frankly, Mr. Burgoyne, I don't think you will find a man in Europe who, in this particular case, can give you help. You must trust to time. I have always thought myself that a shock might do it, though what sort of shock it will have to be is more than I can tell you. I thought the marriage shock might serve. Possibly the birth shock might prove of some avail. But we cannot experiment in shocks, you know. You must trust to time."
On that basis--trust in time--Mr. Burgoyne arranged his household. The bag with its contents was handed to his solicitor. The stolen property was restored to its several owners. It cost Mr. Burgoyne a pretty penny before the restoration was complete. A certain Mrs. Deal formed part of his establishment. She acted as companion and keeper to Mr. Burgoyne's wife. They never knew whether that lady realised what Mrs. Deal's presence really meant. And, in spite of their utmost vigilance, things were taken--from shops, from people's houses, from guests under her own roof. It was Mrs. Deal's business to discover where these things were, and to see that they were instantly restored. Her life was spent in a continual game of hide and seek.
It was a strange life they lived in that Brompton house, and yet--odd though it may sound--it was a happy one. He loved her, she loved him--there is a good deal in just that simple fact. There was one good thing--and that in spite of Dr. Muir's suggestion that a birth shock might effect a cure--there were no children.
CHAPTER II
[THE CURE]
They had been married five years. There came an invitation from one Arthur Watson, a friend of Mr. Burgoyne's boyhood. After long separation they had encountered each other by accident, and Mr. Watson had insisted upon Mr. Burgoyne's bringing his wife to spend the "week-end" with him in that Mecca of a certain section of modern Londoners--up the river. So the married couple went to see the single man.
After dinner conversation rather languished. But their host stirred it up again.
"I have something here to show you." Producing a leather case from the inner pocket of his coat, he addressed a question to Mr. Burgoyne "Do much in mines?"
"How do you mean?"