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He was clearing up these difficulties by tracing a partially obliterated suture the Scotchman had overlooked when the door from the passage opened, and Manning came into his universe. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. " "What is it?" asked Thames. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. ‘I see that Leonardo was right. ‘Wait! No time for that. "It is never too late. “You have forgotten.
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