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O! Most virtuous Fyne! He cast his eyes
down. He didn't like it. But I eyed him with hidden animosity for he
had got me to run after him under somewhat false pretences.
Mrs. Fyne had only smiled at me very expressively, very self-confidently.
"Oh I quite understand that you accept the fullest responsibility," I
said. "I am the only ridiculous person in this--this--I don't know how
to call it--performance. However, I've nothing more to do here, so I'll
say good-night--or good morning, for it must be past one."
But before departing, in common decency, I offered to take any wires they
might write. My lodgings were nearer the post-office than the cottage
and I would send them off the first thing in the morning. I supposed
they would wish to communicate, if only as to the disposal of the
luggage, with the young lady's relatives . . .
Fyne, he looked rather downcast by then, thanked me and declined.
"There is really no one," he said, very grave.
"No one," I exclaimed.
"Practically," said curt Mrs. Fyne.
And my curiosity was aroused again.
"Ah! I see.


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