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question of my purse. I did do other things that annoyed him. I took his food and went to sleep on his bed and even though he hadn’t locked up, from his point of view—”
    “Are" you defending him, by any chance?” Miss Coates interrupted in surprise. “Because, if so, I consider that uncommonly generous of you. He behaved like the oaf I’d already found him to be.”
    “Yes—well, perhaps he did. But I’ve been wondering— le looks like somebody with a chip on his shoulder. So perhaps he’s had good cause not to trust anybody. And in my case, he was quite right about one thing. It was impossible for me to stay here.”
    “True,” Miss Coates agreed absently, her mind suddenly off at a tangent.
    For the first time she was reminded that many a love story has begun with conflict between the two people concerned and that almost invariably innocent bystanders were apt to get caught up in the maelstrom. She sighed. she liked what she had seen of Rosamund and she had her own reasons for being resolved to stand by her. All the same, it seemed likely that this summer the tranquillity of mind which she was accustomed to find here might be difficult, if not actually impossible, to come by.
     
    Robert Dexter arrived during Saturday morning. He was a man in his early fifties and despite the fact that he was wearing extremely informal clothes, Rosamund’s first impression of him was one of essential spruceness. For one thing, old though as they were, it was evident that his clothes had been personally tailored. His brown hair, only lightly flecked with white at the temples, was short and well brushed. He wore a small Vandyke beard trimmed with professional skill and his hand, when Miss Coates introduced them and he took Rosamund’s in his, was warm and firm. In fact, she took an instant liking to him and as their eyes met she smiled with instinctive friendliness.
    Dr. Rob—which was how Miss Coates had introduced him—smiled responsively and his grasp of her hand tightened very slightly.
    “I’m very glad to meet you, my dear!” he told her, and the way in which he said it convinced her that it wasn’t just an empty, conventional remark. He really meant it, and even in that brief space of time she knew that she had made a friend.
     
    “Well?” Alice Coates demanded.
    The sun was shining gloriously now and freshened by the rain earlier in the week, hedgerows and flowers were more beautiful than ever.
    But the two old friends, sitting together on the deck of the Rosebud } were barely aware of their surroundings.
    Rosamund, thinking that they might enjoy their own company better if she was not there, had made the excuse of shopping to go to the village. Almost immediately Miss Coates had left her own craft to visit Dr. Rob.
    “The likeness is undeniable,” he said slowly. “And of course, the eyes—” He paused. “Tell me what you know about her, Alice.”
    “Not very much,” she acknowledged regretfully. “She’s far from being communicative. But what I do know all fits in. For example, she tells me that she’s twenty-three, and though I don’t know exactly when her birthday is, any time during that year would make it possible.”
    “True enough,” Dr. Rob acknowledged. “What else?”
    “Only odds and ends that I’ve pieced together,” Miss Coates explained. “But of course it’s possible that, having already jumped to a conclusion, I’m making things fit that really don’t. So check on my reasoning very carefully, Rob!”
    “I don’t know that I’m the best person to do that,” he said a little wryly. “You see, I want your conclusions to be right! Still, go ahead.”
    “Well, after the initial shock of realising the likeness, I looked out for anything she said or did that was in any way revealing. She admitted to me that she had run away from—somebody, but even before that I had thought it more than probable. You see, these days, most girls use make-up. Rosamund doesn’t. Yet her