The old fool’s been working on you through your sister to keep off the stage. “This is all madness,” she declared wearily. Then he did give way a bit. Sir Rowland is one of us," he added, winking at his companions, "and so was his brother-in-law, Sir Cecil Trafford. He was tall, slender, and suave. He died in the war. dear. She comprehends what we're about. She sings twice a week at the ‘Ambassador’s’ and the ‘Casino Mavise’——” Sir John held up his hand. Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of this or that invading emotion. She floundered deep. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain.
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