and explain my connection with Mr. Corvet. Well—I can't do that; that is what I came here hoping to find out."
She came back toward him slowly.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
He was forcing himself to disregard the strangeness which his surroundings and all that had happened in the last half hour had made him feel; leaning his arms on the back of the chair in which he had been sitting, he managed to smile reassuringly; and he fought down and controlled resolutely the excitement in his voice, as he told her rapidly the little he knew about himself.
He could not tell definitely how she was affected by what he said. She flushed slightly, following her first start of surprise after he had begun to speak; when he had finished, he saw that she was a little pale.
"Then you don't know anything about Mr. Corvet at all," she said.
"No; until I got his letter sending for me here, I'd never seen or heard his name."
She was thoughtful for a moment.
"Thank you for telling me," she said. "I'll tell my father when he comes."
"Your father is—?" he ventured.
She understood now that the name of Sherrill had meant nothing to him. "Father is Mr. Corvet's closest friend, and his business partner as well," she explained.
He thought she was going to tell him something more about them; but she seemed then to decide to leave that for her father to do. She crossed to the big chair beside the grate and seated herself. As she sat looking at him, hands clasped beneath her chin, and her elbows resting on the arm of the chair, there was speculation and
