The people round them were thinning out and beginning to go away. He saw Mirrie moving in the direction of the door, and turning abruptly, he went after her. She had come out into the hall with some old girl who seemed to be a very important person if the fuss they were making about her was anything to go by-Georgina Grey kissing her-Mirrie being kissed-Anthony Hallam and Johnny Fabian going out to see her off. He came up behind Mirrie and took her by the arm.

“Who on earth was that? Royalty?”

She turned a startled look on him.

“It was Mrs. Borrodale. She is Georgina ’s godmother.”

He laughed.

“All that fuss, and not even a title! I suppose she’s got money?”

“No-I think she’s quite poor. They are all very fond of her.”

He said, “I want to talk to you. Where can we go?”

“Sid, I can’t-”

He said brutally,

“Do you want me to talk right out here in front of everyone?”

“Sid, you wouldn’t!”

“You just watch me! Where can we go?”

She took him into the morning-room, and it was he who shut the door.

“Now-what’s cooking?”

“Sid, why did you come?”

“To see you of course! I’ve got to find out how the land lies, haven’t I? And I’m not taking any chances on the phone- people in villages are nosey. I could tell you some stories about that! And as for putting things down on paper-not much!” He whistled expressively. “Not for yours truly!”

“You told me to write to you.”

She had written, and now she wished so much that she hadn’t. She had told him things, and what had he done with what she had told him?

She went over to the fire and stood drooping beside it. Why had she come in here with Sid? She oughtn’t to have come. He was going to make her tell him things, and when she had told him he was going to be dreadfully, dreadfully angry. She ought to have stayed close to Johnny, and then Sid couldn’t have made her come. But Johnny was out on the steps seeing Mrs. Borrodale off.

Sid came over to the hearth. She used to think he looked wonderful when he leaned against the mantelpiece like that with his elbow on it as if the place belonged to him. What he was thinking was that perhaps it did, and she had to tell him that it didn’t, nor to her either, and the more she thought about it the less she felt as if she could. She risked a glance at him, and wished she hadn’t. He had the black look which had always frightened her.

“Well, come on, out with it! How much has he left you? I suppose they’ve read the will?”

Mirrie hesitated. He spoke more roughly.

“That was the lawyer in the car in front of us, wasn’t it? The old woman-Mrs. Fabian, isn’t she-said he was catching a train. Said her son was driving him to Lenton. Meant me to take the hint and go with him, I wouldn’t wonder, but I put her off. What I want to know is how we stand. The old man told you he was treating you as his daughter, and he told you he had actually made and signed a new will.”

“Oh, yes, he did. I told you.”

He gave a short laugh.

“I didn’t wait for you to tell me! I’ve a friend in the lawyer’s office and she tipped me the wink. And you know damned well you’d no business ringing me up like you did. A place like this’ll have extensions all over the shop, I wouldn’t wonder. How do you know there wasn’t someone listening in on the line?”

“Oh, there wasn’t! They were all in the drawing-room just after dinner before the coffee came in, and everyone busy in the kitchen. You said to let you know, and I was ever so excited because of what Uncle Jonathan had just told me. When he came back from London on Tuesday evening.”

“All right, but don’t do it again. He said he had made the will, and Maudsley will have told you what’s in it. You get the house?”

That horrid shaking was beginning again, but Sid didn’t like it if you kept him waiting. She had to answer. She said,

“No-no, I don’t.”

“Who gets it?”

“ Georgina does.”

“And what do you get?”

“I-I-”

“Come along-out with it!”

“I don’t-I don’t-get anything. Oh, Sid!”

His hand had shot out and caught her arm above the elbow. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and frightened.

“What do you mean, you don’t get anything? You wouldn’t be lying about it-not to me, would you? You’d better not!”

“I wouldn’t! Oh, Sid, you’re hurting!”

“I’ll hurt you worse than that if you lie to me! He signed the new will. How much do you get?”

A flood of terrified words came stumbling out.

“It wasn’t my fault. He did make the will-he told me he had. He told me I hadn’t got anything to worry about. And then Georgina went and talked to him after dinner and he tore the new will up and-and burned it.”

Sid had turned a really horrid colour-like a tallow candle, only there isn’t anything frightening about a tallow candle, and there was about Sid. She went on looking at him, because she couldn’t look away. He said in a kind of choked voice,

“He-burned-it?”

Mirrie burst into tears.

“It wasn’t my fault-”

There was a moment when Sid Turner thought of so many things to say that they hung back, jostling as it were for first place. It was during that moment that the door opened and Johnny Fabian came in. He saw the perfectly horrible young man who had blown in from London, with a hand on Mirrie’s arm. He saw that Mirrie was crying and he couldn’t get across the room quickly enough.

Sid let go of Mirrie and stepped back. He didn’t like the look in Johnny’s eye, and it was no part of his plan to get let in for a rough house. He said,

“She’s upset.”

Mirrie sobbed, and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief which had begun the day very smooth and clean and was now a crumpled wreck. Johnny said briskly,

“It’s been an upsetting day. I’m driving Mr. Maudsley to Lenton for his train in ten minutes. Can I give you a lift?”

The thing hung in the balance. Sid Turner wasn’t sure. He hadn’t known Mirrie as long as he had without finding out how slick a liar she could be. He came down on the side of a check-up on what she had told him.

“She’s upset because of being let down flat-that’s what. I’m a family connection, I expect she’s told you, and I’d like to know what’s going to be done about getting her her rights.”

Johnny’s eyebrows rose.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. Mirrie, you’d better go up and lie down.”

“Not yet, she won’t!” said Sid Turner. “Not till we’ve got this clear! Mr. Field said he was going to provide for her. He told her so. And he told her he’d done it. And now she says somebody burned that will and she doesn’t get anything.”

“Not somebody-Mr. Field burned it himself.”

“Sez you!” His tone was a nasty one.

Johnny went to the door and threw it open.

“If you want that lift you can have it. And if you want to know what happened about the will you can ask Mr. Maudsley on the way to Lenton. And after that I think it would be a good plan if you were to mind your own business and leave Mirrie alone.”

Sid looked at Mirrie, who went on crying. He looked at the open door and remembered that it was three miles to Lenton. He said,

“If that’s the way it is I’ll take the lift.”