"That's the only answer. It's the answer to everything." So Fleda saw; for a minute she looked over her companion's head and far away. "He wasn't at Waterbath; Mrs. Brigstock must have read your telegram and kept it. But mine, the one to Poynton, brought something. 'We are here—what do you want?'" Mrs. Gereth stopped as if with a failure of voice; on which Fleda sank upon the sofa and made a movement to take her hand. It met no response; there could be no attenuation. Fleda waited; they sat facing each other like strangers. "I wanted to go down," Mrs. Gereth presently continued. "Well, I went." "The answer to his message is perfectly distinct: he shall have everything in the place the minute he'll say he'll marry you."!

Fleda's surprise at this aberration left her a moment looking at him. "Do you mean your marriage is off?" "Oh yes, she will have written bang off!" Owen cheerfully conceded.

Fleda gave a bold dramatic laugh. "Thank you, my love—with all the best things at Ricks!" "Your just giving everything back." "Afraid, you mean, of the legal steps you may take?"