sitting by Elsie on the tree trunk. If so, she probably thought... Well, she looked as though she thought.

... A wave of indignation overwhelmed

him! What foul minds some women had!

Odd that the sun had gone in and that

they should both have shivered --perhaps

just at the moment that that woman was

watching them....

Somehow, Harold felt a little uneasy.

IV

That evening, Harold went to his room a

little after ten. The English mail had

arrived and he had received a number of

letters, some of which needed immediate

answers.

He got into his pyjamas and a dressing218

gown and sat down at the desk to deal with

his correspondence. He had written three

letters and was just starting on the fourth

when the door was suddenly flung open

and Elsie Clayton staggered into the room.

Harold jumped up, startled. Elsie had

pushed the door to behind her and was

standing clutching at the chest of drawers.

Her breath was coming in great gasps, her

face was the colour of chalk. She looked

frightened to death.

She gasped out: "It's my husband! He

arrived unexpectedly. I — I think he'll

kill me. He's mad — quite mad. I came to

you. Don't — don't let him find me."

She took a step or two forward, swaying

so much that she almost fell. Harold put

out an arm to support her.

As he did so, the door was flung open

and a man stood in the doorway. He was

of medium height with thick eyebrows

and a sleek, dark head. In his hand he

carried a heavy car spanner. His voice

rose high and shook with rage. He almost

screamed the words.

"So that Polish woman was right! You

are carrying on with this fellow!"

Elsie cried:

219

"No, no, Philip. It's not true. You're

wrong."

Harold thrust the girl swiftly behind

him, as Philip Clayton advanced on them

both. The latter cried:

"Wrong, am I? When I find you here

in his room? You she-devil. I'll kill you

for this.?3

With a swift, sideways movement he

dodged Harold's arm. Elsie, with a cry, ran round the other side of Harold, who swung round to fend the other off.

But Philip Clayton had only one idea, to get at his wife. He swerved round again. Elsie, terrified, rushed out of the room.

Philip Clayton dashed after her, and

Harold, with not a moment's hesitation, followed him.

Elsie had darted back into her own bedroom

at the end of the corridor. Harold

could hear the sound of the key turning

in the lock, but it did not turn in time.

Before the lock could catch Philip Clayton

wrenched the door open. He disappeared

into the room and Harold heard Elsie's

frightened cry. In another minute Harold

burst in after them.

Elsie was standing at bay against the

220

curtains of the window. As Harold entered

Philip Clayton rushed at her brandishing

the spanner. She gave a terrified cry, then