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By Root 431 0

a bit of fun like any girl might, and there was that stiff middle-aged brother of hers with his ideas about what a girl could do and couldn’t do. No fun at all, that kid hadn’t. Well, I took her about a bit—showed her a bit of life. I wasn’t really keen on her and she wasn’t really keen on me. She just liked the fun of being a daredevil. Then of course they found out we were meeting and he put a stop to it. Don’t blame him, really. Cut above me, she was. We weren’t engaged or anything of that kind. I meant to marry sometime—but not till I was a good bit older. And I meant to get on and to find a wife who’d help me get on. Helen hadn’t any money, and it wouldn’t have been a suitable match in any way. We were just good friends with a bit of flirtation thrown in.”

“But you must have been angry with the doctor—”

Gwenda paused and Afflick said: “I was riled, I admit. You don’t fancy being told you’re not good enough. But there, it’s no good being thin-skinned.”

“And then,” said Giles, “you lost your job.”

Afflick’s face was not quite so pleasant.

“Fired, I was. Out of Fane and Watchman’s. And I’ve a very good idea who was responsible for that.”

“Oh?” Giles made his tone interrogative, but Afflick shook his head.

“I’m not saying anything. I’ve my own ideas. I was framed—that’s all—and I’ve a very fair idea of who did it. And why!” The colour suffused his cheeks. “Dirty work,” he said. “Spying on a man—laying traps for him—lying about him. Oh, I’ve had my enemies all right. But I’ve never let them get me down. I’ve always given as good as I got. And I don’t forget.”

He stopped. Suddenly his manner changed back again. He was genial once more.

“So I can’t help you, I’m afraid. A little bit of fun between me and Helen—that was all. It didn’t go deep.”

Gwenda stared at him. It was a clear enough story—but was it true? she wondered. Something jarred—it came to the surface of her mind what that something was.

“All the same,” she said, “you looked her up when you came to Dillmouth later.”

He laughed.

“You’ve got me there, Mrs. Reed. Yes, I did. Wanted to show her perhaps that I wasn’t down and out just because a long-faced lawyer had pushed me out of his office. I had a nice business and I was driving a posh car and I’d done very well for myself.”

“You came to see her more than once, didn’t you?”

He hesitated a moment.

“Twice—perhaps three times. Just dropped in.” He nodded with sudden finality. “Sorry I can’t help you.”

Giles got up.

“We must apologize for taking up so much of your time.”

“That’s all right. Quite a change to talk about old times.”

The door opened and a woman looked in and apologized swiftly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry—I didn’t know you had anyone—”

“Come in, my dear, come in. Meet my wife. This is Mr. and Mrs. Reed.”

Mrs. Afflick shook hands. She was a tall, thin, depressed-looking woman, dressed in rather unexpectedly well-cut clothes.

“Been talking over old times, we have,” said Mr. Afflick. “Old times before I met you, Dorothy.”

He turned to them.

“Met my wife on a cruise,” he said. “She doesn’t come from this part of the world. Cousin of Lord Polterham’s, she is.”

He spoke with pride—the thin woman flushed.

“They’re very nice, these cruises,” said Giles.

“Very educational,” said Afflick. “Now, I didn’t have any education to speak of.”

“I always tell my husband we must go on one of those Hellenic cruises,” said Mrs. Afflick.

“No time. I’m a busy man.”

“And we mustn’t keep you,” said Giles. “Good-bye and thank you. You’ll let me know about the quotation for the outing?”

Afflick escorted them to the door. Gwenda glanced back over her shoulder. Mrs. Afflick was standing in the doorway of the study. Her face, fastened on her husband’s back, was curiously and rather unpleasantly apprehensive.

Giles and Gwenda said good-bye again and went towards their car.

“Bother, I’ve left my scarf,” said Gwenda.

“You’re always leaving something,” said Giles.

“Don’t looked martyred. I’ll get it.”

She ran back into the house. Through the open door of the study she heard Afflick say loudly: “What do you want