at me. I am afraid that his aunt perceived the movement of his eyelid. She rose with an air of extreme dudgeon.
'I will not say what I think of you all. It would only be a waste of good words. You have heard me give expression to my wishes. If you choose to act in opposition to them, you must do so. You have all arrived at what Mr. Howarth was pleased to call, I presume ironically, the age of discretion. Some of you got there a good many years ago. It only remains for me to wash my hands of any responsibility for what you may do, and, if I think it necessary, to decline your further acquaintance. Edith, are you coming with me?'
'Good-night,' I said to Edith as she turned to accompany her mother. 'I shall not see you again.'
'I shall hear from you?'
'You shall hear from me very soon. I will lose no time in making arrangements for our joint occupation of those country lodgings.'
She smiled. I held the door open for her mother and herself to leave the room. As she passed she whispered:
'I mean it.'
Reggie and I went away together. In the street he asked:
'Can I come in and see Violet?'
'Better not. At least not to-night. Just as well that you should sleep on it.'
'What do you mean by that?'
I considered a moment before I answered.
'You see, Reggie, we're all four of us playing the part of Don Quixote; Violet and you, Edith and I. I'm beginning to fear that we've been playing the part for years. It's all very well for us to talk of marrying the women of our hearts; but there are things to be considered. There are the women.'
'Would you have me throw Vi over?'
'The word's ill chosen. It ill becomes me to play the part of mentor after the way in which I've just behaved, but-suppose Twickenham were to turn up?'
'It would be pretty bad.'
'If that were all! I doubt if he'd give you a penny: as for me, he'd laugh me to scorn. You and I'd be beggars. Would it be chivalrous to drag the women into the ditch with us?'
'But Twickenham's dead.'
We've no proof of it. We've been looking for proof for some time. A pretty penny the search has cost us.'
'What makes you talk like this? You've seemed convinced enough about his being dead. You've gone Nap on it.'
'Precisely. And I'm now inclined to wonder if I haven't gone Nap on a pretty bad hand.'
'Surely you don't believe any of that stuff about my aunt's dreams?'
'Your aunt's dreams are neither here nor there. But between ourselves, I tell you candidly that I think it's quite possible that Twickenham's alive.'
'Good God! What have you heard?'
'I have heard nothing. By the purest accident I have chanced on what may turn out to be a clue. If it does, you shall hear more next week. At present I can tell you nothing.'
'Douglas, where is he?'
'You move too fast. I believe that it's still even betting that Twickenham's as dead as a coffin nail. But you will see for yourself why you and I should not pose as being too chivalrous, and especially why you should sleep upon the matter before having another interview with Vi. Good-night.'
I left him staring after me in Piccadilly. I was afraid of his asking inconvenient questions, just as I had been afraid of not saying anything at all. I might have lighted on a mare's nest, but in case I had not, it only seemed fair that he should have some sort of warning, so that the bolt might not descend on him altogether out of the blue.
Violet met me as soon as I entered the hall.
'Well, what has happened?'
I led the way back into the drawing-room, feeling indisposed to discuss delicate matters within quite such obvious sound of the servants' ears.
'I don't know that anything has happened.'
'Is Reggie going to marry Mary Magruder?'
'He says not.'
'Who is he going to marry?'
'He says he's going to marry you.'
'Douglas! In spite of Lady Desmond's prohibition? I suppose she did prohibit it?'
'Oh, yes, she did that right enough. But he did not seem disposed to lay much stress upon Lady Desmond's prohibition; as you probably expected.' I was convinced that she would have been a surprised young woman if he had paid attention to anything his aunt might have had to say on such a matter. 'At the same time, if you will take my advice, you won't attach weight to anything Reggie may have said, either one way or the other. I, for instance, have promised to marry Edith-again in the face of Lady Desmond's prohibition. But I think it possible that, before very long, neither he nor I may be in a position to marry any one.'
'Do you think that want of money will make any difference to Edith or to me?'
'I do not. But I am sure that neither of you would feel disposed to be a clog upon your husband.'
'A clog! I a clog on Reggie? Rather than I'd be that I'd die!'
I looked at her. As I did so there rose before me a vision of a man lying on a bare mattress, clad in a suit of white pyjamas, inside a glass case. It entirely prevented my seeing Violet. I had to close my eyes to shut it out.
CHAPTER III
CROSS QUESTIONS AND CROOKED ANSWERS
The next day I paid a second visit to the Royal Aquarium. I was conscious that it might not be the wisest possible thing to do, but I could not keep away.
There was a larger attendance of the public at Mr. Montagu Babbacombe's side show. I attributed that to the fact that the period during which he had undertaken to continue asleep was drawing to a close. Mr. Augustus FitzHoward recognised me at once. He greeted me with an affable smile, as an old acquaintance.
'Ah, Mr. Smith! Glad to see you. I thought you'd come.'
I wondered what he meant; if he meant anything at all. For the second time the exhibition did not appear to me to be an agreeable one. Again I experienced a sense of shock when my glance first fell on the seemingly dead man, lying stark and rigid, covered only with those hideous white pyjamas, prisoned under the huge glass case. He resembled an exhibit in a medical museum; a gruesome one at that. I found it difficult to believe that he really lived. I could not detect the slightest sign of respiration. The face just looked as if it had been touched by the hand of Death. I have seen dead men in my time. If that was not death, then it was an awful imitation.
I caught myself hoping that he was dead. For it was Twickenham; there was not the slightest doubt of it. And yet the moment after doubts recurred. Twickenham had always been clean shaven; but I remembered that he used to tell me how he had to wrestle with his beard. In particular I had a faint recollection that if he left off shaving for a week he would have a beard three inches long. This man's chin was bristly; it did not add to the charm of his appearance. But presuming that his chin had remained untouched, it did not suggest anything like such a growth of hair as that of which Twickenham
